Crepuscular
by Furyism
Summary: After being tortured by a mad serial killer in Phoenix, Bella makes a supernaturally quick recovery and hides in Forks. An ancient vampire tries to piece together the last shreds of Bella's sanity, but events conspire to rip her apart. According to legend, she was Chosen to hunt and destroy Dark Immortals. There are plenty of them in Forks; the problem is, she loves one of them.B/A
1. Maggie

_**Crepuscular**_

**EDIT 10/31:** Updated summary. Thanks Aidis. Oh, updated warnings, too, but that's not important.

**New Summary: **After being tortured by a mad serial killer in Phoenix, Bella makes a supernaturally quick recovery and escapes to Forks. There, she meets a family of creatures that, according to legend, she was Chosen to destroy. Problem is, she's in love with one of them. A/B

**Original Summary:** She's breathing underwater and leaping over large objects, a tiny pixelike girl saves her life, and one of her friends has a furry little problem. And because of an ancient legend, she's supposed be killing the only people who ever meant anything to her.

**Rating:** PG-16

**Warnings:** Violence, language, adult situations, and very slight OOC on Bella's part. The violence isn't typical of Meyer, either - the prologue, as well as the subsequent chapters that pertain to the prologue, may be a bit disturbing to some because it involves torture. Also, this is a **Bellice** fic, so at the risk of sounding overly defensive, if you don't like that kind of thing, you really shouldn't be here reading it. Not that my tiny brain can comprehend why anyone would _not_ enjoy it, but rumor has it that impossibility does exist.

**Disclaimer:** Anyone who's got a clue what fan fiction is knows that there is not a snowball's chance in hell I own anything that Stephenie Meyer does. However, I do own the plot and anything – characters, settings, etc. – that are born from it. And this is the only time I'll say it.

**Oh, and one more warning. **I'm not a huge fan of twilight. That is, in fact, why I'm writing this, to make it better (not that I presume to be a better writer than Stephenie Meyer) and to add a little flavor to the boring-ness that was canon. So if for some reason you take serious issue with the way I write things, keep in mind that you're on this site voluntarily.

_**Prologue: Maggie**_

It was nearing dusk when I managed to escape. Tiffany and Yvonne were too busy perusing several cute little dresses they had found and were heading to the dressing room when I quietly slipped away from their torture. I'd call them later to let 'em know I was all right, but for now all that mattered was getting some fresh air and then going home. That damn mall was _stifling_.

There wasn't much relief outside, but I felt a bit better knowing that my house wasn't far from here, using a shortcut, and it would only be a few minutes before I could sink into the comfort of air conditioning and my comfy bed. It was May and to me it felt like the middle of summer already. I dreaded the upcoming months of sweltering heat. It was the only thing I really hated about Phoenix.

The street was brightly lit by the fading sun and illuminating streetlights as I abandoned my friends to shop to their heart's content. They should have known better for dragging me out here, anyway. I felt free and light enough to fly, weighted to the earth only by the one small bag clutched loosely in my sweating hand, the only casualty I'd had to suffer – this time.

There were a few people out, attempting to capture as much of the below-a-hundred weather we would have for a while. An old lady was out walking her dogs, a kid a few years younger than me was speeding by on his bike. One of the dogs barked at me and I smiled at it and the old lady nodded politely but walked on without comment.

After three minutes, I turned down a smaller street where there were fewer people and more houses. There were a couple of businesses and I slipped around and behind a small shoe store to get into an alley that led onto another street that would get me home faster than the main route.

It was darker down here and the city bustle was muffled by the surrounding buildings, but the sun hadn't quite set yet and although there were no other people around, I knew this neighborhood pretty well and was reasonably certain there wasn't a psycho out there waiting to nab me. Still, I walked faster through here, wanting to get the journey over with and unwilling to take my chances should my judgment be proven wrong. I tripped over a pebble in my haste and cursed to myself before slowing down some.

There were three places to go from this particular alley. Going straight, I'd reach my own neighborhood, and a few blocks down was my house. More towards the beginning of it was a dirt path that lead into nothingness and a little more than halfway down was the entry to another alley. They were a bit like tunnels, in this section. The walls were really close together and loomed tall like giant hedges in a labrynth.

I was almost halfway through when I heard a noise that made my blood freeze.

I stopped, holding my breath, and listened. Nothing.

I started forward, but was stopped again by that same noise. It sounded like a moan. Like someone was in pain. My heart pounded forcefully in my chest. I dropped my bag and crept forward, hardly daring to breathe as I strained my ears.

There it was again, louder this time. Someone was definitely in pain.

Then I heard something so bone-chilling I almost screamed and had to clap a hand over my mouth to stifle it. I was wrong. _So_ wrong. There _was_ a psycho in here. That laughter couldn't have come from anything else.

There was a scream that was quickly muffled with a muttered curse word and my knees trembled in terror. It sounded like a boy was being tortured by a woman, and not with something so innocent as shopping. I wished I had just stayed at the mall and suffered like a good little girl would.

Against my better judgment, I decided that I _had_ to investigate. After taking a deep breath to brace myself, I suddenly reeled backwards, gagging. A retched smell of rust and garbage and copper stung at my nose and penetrated deep into my throat. My stomach rebelled, threatening to spill its contents onto my shoes. I stumbled into a wall and leaned against it, breathing raggedly and trying to get used to the stink so I could figure out where it was coming from.

The nausea gradually passed but returned when another muffled scream traveled to my ears. My spine went rigid with fear. I had to talk myself into letting go of the wall.

I reached the corner of the building and stopped. I could hear some odd shuffling noises, some talking. I couldn't tell what she was saying, but I'm pretty sure the woman was talking to herself. The horrible stench was stronger here and I tried to breathe through my mouth but when I did my breath came in short gasps and I didn't want to be heard.

I heard something like metal singing through the air and another scream, much closer to me than it was before. I covered my mouth quickly and bit down on my fingers before _I_ could scream.

Swiftly, before I could think better of it, I leaned around the corner and peaked carefully into the alley. It was a short one, hardly even the length of two buildings, cut off by a chain-link fence topped with barbed wire. Leaning against a dumpster was a boy just barely old enough for high school with dark brown hair, brown eyes, and tanned skin. He was lanky and his face was thin and stretched into a pained grimace of utter horror. His clothes looked like they had been through the shredder and his skin was hardly any better. There were bruises on his face and deep cuts all over his chest and legs. His hand was swollen and bleeding at the knuckles and I guessed he must have gotten at least one good shot in before losing the fight.

The woman standing over him looked to be in her late twenties. She had short, curly blonde hair and piercing green eyes the shade of emerald. Her nails were long and painted a hue of baby blue that I had always hated. She wore a bright blue cocktail dress and silver loop earrings that dangled when she moved. Her six-inch pumps were needle-thin and killed my ankles just to look at them. She held a bloody butcher knife in one hand and a mottled bruise was slowly forming on her delicate jaw.

My eyes widened. Who knew Hollywood could get horror so _right_? Of course, no movie could possibly capture this moment accurately. Like how my ears were ringing with the boy's last scream as the sick woman lowered the knife with frightening speed towards his heart. Or how my stomach was twisting and turning uncomfortably and my gut implored for me to do _something_ other than just stand there. Or how my legs were watery and trembling, refusing to move no matter how many times I ordered them to run. My fingers twitched, longing for a phone to call emergency services, my mom, my dad, _someone_, because there was a boy dying here and all I could do was watch. My throat ached to cry out, to distract her or get help, I wasn't sure which. My vision blurred with fear and hopelessness and sympathy and outrage and a million other things I could not define because my mind was numb with terror. My eyes begged to be looking at something different, like maybe the sunset, but for some reason they were glued to the murder.

The knife stuck out of his chest and he sort of seemed to seize in on it, his hands clawing desperately toward the life-blood seeping out of him, mouth gaping, eyes wide, knees scrunched in towards his abdomen. His last breath seemed to be an accusing holler at me for not doing anything to stop this from happening.

The woman just stood there with a horrible smirk on her porcelain face. She looked like a psychotic, villainous Marilyn Monroe and I wanted to jump on her and scream at her and rip her throat out for being such a monster but some tiny shred of self-preservation held me in place. She picked up her purse from where it lay a few feet away and sifted through it before pulling out an antiseptic hand-wipe, which she used to clean the handle of the knife still sticking out of the boy's heart.

While she was preoccupied with that, I finally convinced my legs that running was the better part of not being next.

**Ж**

Three weeks later, Renée's boyfriend of six months, Phil Dwyer, took us to this pizza place on Camelback to meet all his friends. Well, not _all_ his friends, since that would at least consist of his entire team – he plays minor league baseball – but all his friends who _don't_ work with him.

There were four of them: Pete, Arthur, John, and Josh. They were actually all very nice and we spent a pleasant evening downing beer (soda, in my case, although Phil sneakily let me have a sip or five when no one else was looking) and trading funny anecdotes. Josh had a new girlfriend, Maggie Blatch, who was fun to talk to when Phil and Renée were being lovey-dovey and the other guys were being guys.

Maggie was the kind of beautiful you figure you could never see outside the box office. She had short, dark hair that looked like it was on fire when the light hit it just right. Her eyes were the most beautiful shade of hazel-amber I had seen anywhere. She was only a couple inches taller than me but with her heels she positively towered.

The two of us left my mom and Phil and his friends mostly to pretend that we did not actually know them – they were getting really freakin' loud as the beer sank in and the pizza didn't – and ended up playing pool for a few rounds while making conversation.

"So how many boyfriends has your mom had?"

I snorted and didn't answer until I hit the cue ball with my stick and somehow managed to get it into a pocket without touching anything else. I scowled at the table as though it were to blame for my lack of coordination while Maggie laughed at my luck.

"I don't know, I haven't really been keeping track. I'd guess Phil's somewhere after ten but before thirty?"

Maggie chuckled, positioning herself over the table. "That's specific."

I rolled my eyes when she neatly pocketed two balls with the same move.

"I know, right?"

"She really seems to like this one, though. What do you think of him?"

I shrugged. She hit the ball and it spun off awkwardly and hit a ball in the general direction of a corner pocket but it stopped three inches away. I reluctantly hefted my stick and prepared to make a fool of myself yet again.

"Haven't been around him long enough to say. School just ended, you know. Been busy. I like his friends, though, if that's any indication."

I smiled briefly at Maggie before returning my concentration to the table. With my tongue between my teeth, I somehow managed to get a ball in. But I groaned when I realized it was the wrong one.

"Thanks, darlin'," said Maggie with a fake accent. I giggled and didn't feel as bad.

There was some music in the background and I recognized Rihanna's "Umbrella". I hummed along with the music as Maggie lined up her next shot. She looked up.

"You like this music?"

I shrugged. "It's all right. I'm more into the classics, really."

She paused and straightened up with curiosity. "Like what?"

"Hmm, some of everything. You know. I'm just...not discriminating. I don't look for anything specific."

Maggie raised one delicate eyebrow and I briefly envied her that ability; it wasn't in my genes or something. She didn't comment though, and sank another ball on her next shot. I sighed.

She took pity on me and gave me a few pointers for the next few shots and by the end of our second game I was pleased to see that I was actually improving.

"So you said you were busy with school. Any subjects you dislike more than the others?"

I smiled and shook my head. "Nothing, really."

"I heard your mom tell Josh that you like to read."

"You heard that? Yeah, I do."

"What's your favorite book?"

"_Wuthering Heights_."

Maggie shook her head. She was starting to set up for our third round of the night. I would say that we were going for best two out of three, but then she'd already have me beat.

"I was never into that kind of thing, myself."

"No?"

"I went to too many parties to care much for literature."

"Oh."

We made similar chit-chat for the rest of that game, which by some miracle I managed to win. I had just broken into the fourth when she said something that had my mood sinking like a hot air balloon poked with a thousand holes.

"Did you see the news the other week? About that serial killer?"

My mouth went dry and I grabbed the soda I had resting on the arm of a chair against the wall a few feet behind me. I chugged the last few gulps and managed to shake my head at Maggie.

"No, no I didn't. I don't really watch the news much. Just the same old shit over and over again anyway. I hate re-runs." I clamped my mouth shut before it could run off anymore.

Maggie grinned at me. "I don't blame ya. But I watch it sometimes, just for kicks."

"Oh yeah?"

"Sure. Anyway, that killer; they say they got information on her from some anonymous source after the last murder and now they're real close to catching her. They got a sketch artist to figure out exactly what she looks like and everything, right down to what she was wearing when she killed that poor boy – what did they say his name was again? Tim? Timmy? Tony? Yeah, I think it was Tony."

I let out a painful breath. "Oh yeah?" I repeated, feeling dumb. And numb. I needed a beer. "Well, that's good. One less asshole in the world to be a bother, right?"

Maggie's eyes darkened for a second but then she shot a ball perfectly into a hole and I dismissed it as a look of intense concentration.

**Ж**

For the next few months Maggie was almost a constant in my life. She broke up with Josh for unexplained reasons three days after the night we met but I guess we got along so well that she stuck around. She had a rich uncle and lived off his money so she wouldn't have to work a day in her life. I disapproved of her lackadaisical lifestyle but it was not my place to say anything about it; though only twenty, she was an adult and made her own choices.

While Phil and Renée were getting _really_ serious (they were engaged barely a week after the night at the pizza place), Maggie and I had a friendship that blossomed over that summer. She rescued me from Tiff and Yvonne's relentless shopping – they hardly ever bought anything anyway, so I didn't see the point – and we would spend the day lounging around at my place or hers (actually, pretty much just hers).

I convinced her to read _Pride and Prejudice_, which she grew bored with quickly so I ended up having to summarize it for her – we watched the movie. She refused to read Shakespeare, stating reasonably that plays were meant to be watched, not read. I finally gave up arguing and she triumphantly made me go to a zoo with her.

It was a small zoo, not even in Phoenix but in one of the outlying retirement areas. Surprise or El Mirage or somewhere around in there. We took a lot of pictures, fed the giraffes, and irritated an elderly couple by cooing too loudly at the miniature jackalopes. Maggie wanted to see if she could get the rhino to charge at us but I managed to drag her off to see the tigers before she could try it.

My luck, of course, was prominent even in a place like the zoo.

When we got to the llamas one of them tried to eat the long sleeve of my shirt and it was only Maggie rapping him sharply on the head that got him to give up on it. The ducks at the duck pond were so persistent in their begging for some kind of food that one sat right in my lap, getting me all wet (it had looked like I had peed myself, dammit), before I managed to shove him off. Some help Maggie was, she just stood there and laughed at me. I shoved her into a tree where a chimp grabbed at her hair, barely missed, and got hold of her nose. It took a lot of coaxing to get that little primate to let go. Maggie had seemed panicked for a while after that, constantly fidgeting with her hair as though to make sure it was still there.

Other than the zoo, Maggie somehow managed to get me into a one-piece swimsuit and take me to a water park. Apart from the horrific sunburn that didn't heal completely for another two weeks, that had actually been fun. The amusement park she took me to was thrilling until she vomited into my lap, but the carnival had a lot of fun games that couldn't disturb her tender stomach, to the relief of us both.

Because she was being so nice and taking me to all these places to keep me from getting too bored this summer, I surprised Maggie one evening with four tickets to _Hamlet_. I told her that if she wouldn't read it, she could at least enjoy watching it, and we brought Phil and Renée along as well. I thought they might get bored at first – my mom is so scatterbrained, she could barely sit through a whole movie – but there was enough action and genuine drama to keep them surprisingly riveted.

Maggie enjoyed herself so much she took me with her the next day to see the next showing of it, and then bought tickets a week later to _Romeo and Juliet_. I tried warning her that _Romeo and Juliet_ was nothing like _Hamlet_, but she insisted. Apparently she liked watching unrealistic, tragic romances. I didn't care too much for it, but had fun just watching Maggie have fun.

I guess, on a level, our comaradarie made sense. I didn't get along very well with my peers, but apparently I was fine with adults. Maggie was an adult who acted like a toddler, so it was like we were always made to be friends. In fact, she was the closest friend I had had since I stopped going to visit Charlie in Forks when I was fourteen.

Since I had stopped going to Forks, however, I still spent two weeks of each summer vacationing in California with my dad. This summer, I didn't want to go because it would mean spending time away from Maggie. But then she came up with a solution: she would come with me! My mom was all for the idea; Charlie was reluctant but grudgingly agreed, claiming he would love to meet my new best friend.

We went to Los Angeles during my last two weeks of summer vacation and had a great time. Charlie may have developed a little crush on Maggie, which was extremely awkward for me, but since he was courteous enough to never say anything embarrassing, that was the only bit of awkwardness we had to endure for the whole trip. It was a nice change from my previous visits with Charlie. I guessed Maggie made a great ice-breaker.

Despite what I had told Maggie, however, I did keep an eye on the news every morning. There was rarely anything about the topic I was looking for, but occasionally a reporter did have something to say about a false lead the police had followed, to no avail. There had been no murders since Anthony Salvador's death.

Renée, and sometimes Phil, would watch the news as well now and again, with bated breath, just waiting for the report that the murderer had somehow found out that I was the anonymous witness to Tony's death and would therefore be the next to go. I wasn't sure how that kind of thing could end up on the news, and I was confident that the murderer had no idea who the witness had been, but their worrying had me worried as well and sometimes I would catch myself looking over my shoulder whenever I was out of the house. Thankfully, no one else knew about the situation, not even the police, and I was grateful and more endeared to Phil for not spilling the beans to one of his friends.

When school started up again, I realized that there were some consequences to having Maggie as a friend. I spent so much time with her that I had neglected what few friends I had at school and now they wouldn't so much as talk to me because of it. My education, therefore, was now a very lonely one.

But in my mind, it was worth it.

At first, I wasn't sure why.

Then I realized how much time I could spend just looking into Maggie's eyes. I realized how I loved the feel of her leaning up against me while we watched a chick flick at her house. How, when I tried to play with her hair, she'd grab my hand and hold it securely in her lap and I'd miss the contact if she ever let go. I started noticing how her smile could make my insides do funny things you only see in Olympic gymnastics, or how, when she got too close, my heart would stutter and stop before speeding away like a 'vette successfully running on crack.

I hadn't seen it at first because it wasn't something that I had ever had any experience with. Sure, I admired a handsome man or a hot bod or an elegant woman when I saw one, but I had never been physically attracted to anyone before I met Maggie. I certainly never thought that I could be attracted to a _woman_ who, for the record, was four years older than I was. Just the thought of it was disturbing and yet...so _right_.

I had a girl crush on Maggie Blatch.

Great.

Everytime I saw her after my epiphany, it was in a new light. I kept searching for signs that maybe, miraculously, she might feel the same way, and for a while there I thought she did. Whenever she looked at me there was a dark gleam in her amber eyes that could easily be mistaken for desire, although I somehow knew that it wasn't. Whenever our hands brushed accidentally (or on purpose, courtesy of me), I felt her pause a little, lingering, like she wanted to grab my hand. I was pretty sure I was just imagining that, though.

I knew a relationship between us wasn't possible, but the part of me that was crushing still had some weird, ridiculous hope. She was too old, she was a woman. It became my mantra. Too old, and a woman. Too old, and a woman. And my friend. My very good friend who knew nothing of how I felt and would probably abandon me if she did, leaving me utterly alone and hurting.

Maybe two weeks after my junior year in high school began, I had another epiphany. Rather, an epiphany was forced on me. It was more impossible than I had realized for Maggie and I to be together.

**Ж**

"Come _on_, Bellllaaaa, let's go for a walk!"

Maggie was whining and giving me her irresistably cute pout that always made me give in to whatever it was she was demanding. I was adamant this time, though. It was a Friday and we were planning on having a sleepover weekend at her place to give me a much-needed break from school. A break which, I had thought, would not include any physical activity of any kind. All I wanted to do was cuddle with Maggie on the couch and watch stupid movies and eat fattening sweets and ice cream all night until we fell asleep.

"No."

Then Maggie actually made a genuine whining noise, sounding like a puppy. I laughed at her but melted at the expression on her face. I looked away quickly.

"Aw, Mags, come on. I'm tired. Can't we just crash for a while?"

She huffed. I risked a glance and immediately regretted it; Maggie had a look on her face that resembled the cat that ate the canary – I didn't much like cats and I've never seen a canary, but I thought the phrase was fitting. She licked her lips slowly as she appraised me and I felt a slow, hot blush creep up my neck and across my cheeks. She giggled adorably and pinched my arm lightly, not hard enough to hurt. Tingles shot up and down my arm.

Her voice was slightly husky when she said, "What if I promise to do whatever you want when we get home afterwards?"

My blush intensified before I could even think _holy shit_. My head felt light and heady. She couldn't possibly mean what I thought she meant. I was only thinking that way because of my girl crush. There was no way she could have _her_ mind in the gutter at the same time I did. No way.

Maggie leaned closer, close enough I could smell her sweet perfume. I thought I could detect some jasmine and lavender but I wasn't an expert and I was a little distracted by the proximity of her breasts to my own and her hot breath on my cheek as she brought her lips so close to my ear I could feel their softness when she whispered, "I promise."

My brain was mush, my body was frozen, and hell if I could think of an adequate response to _that_.

I must have mumbled something resembling an affirmative because she bounced up, grabbed my hand to pull me with her, and we were out the door before my mind could catch up with what was happening.

Breathless, I followed Maggie down her walkway and out the gate, which she made sure was locked behind her before leading me in the general direction of a park I knew was nearby.

I still could not talk for a few minutes and Maggie seemed content to swing our arms between us in silence. I couldn't help but notice the way the crepuscular sun was shining in her eyes, highlighting flecks of gold and outlining bits of emerald around the edges of her irises.

"Erm...Maggie..." I started hesitantly.

"Mm?"

I took a deep breath.

"Areyouwearingcontacts?" I blurted, chickening out at the last second from whatever it was I was going to say before that verbal vomit was ejaculated from my throat without permission.

Maggie stiffened suddenly as though I had just asked if she was wearing a tampon or a pad right this second.

"What did you say?"

"Sorry," I apologized, though there was no reason to. "It's just, I noticed, um, it kinda looks like you're wearing contacts, sorry. The way the light is and all." I laughed nervously.

Maggie clenched her teeth together and grinded them as I grew more and more nervous. Her grip on my hand was like death.

Suddenly, she turned her head and dazzled me with a blinding smile. "Yes, I am actually. Prescription."

Her tone was still a little cold, but I dismissed it.

"Right, sorry, just wondering. So, um, where we headed?"

Maggie's smile was grim.

"I actually wanted to...to visit my parents, if you don't mind?"

I blinked stupidly. "Uh, I thought...aren't they – aren't your parents dead? I mean, a few weeks ago, you said..."

Her lips twitched but she didn't say anything. I frowned, and then my eyes widened.

"Oh! _Oh_! You mean visit...in the...I mean no, _no_ I don't mind. Sorry. I'm a bit slow today. You should have said earlier, I wouldn't have argued."

Maggie shrugged, her shoulders stiff with tension. Her large purse – it was more like a handbag, really, as it could probably fit a decent-sized dog with room left over – bounced with the movement.

"I didn't know if you would like the idea."

"No!" I said quickly, maybe too quickly. "I mean, really, I don't mind at all. I think it's sweet."

"Okay then."

"Right."

I blew out a nervous breath. _Smooth, Bella._

The cemetery wasn't very far away, but it was pretty secluded. Her parents weren't buried in the main Phoenix cemetery, which I had never seen but could imagine was reasonably humongous. This was St. Christopher's Cemetery, according to the name on the gate. It would close in about half an hour.

Maggie led me briskly to the mausoleum. I could barely keep up, she was walking so fast, and her legs were longer, too, allowing for more lengthy strides. The mausoleum was brightly lit but I didn't have a chance to look around before I was being hauled down a flight of stairs to a lower level I had not known existed just from looking at the place. It was darker down below, with hardly any lights to cast on the walls. It was really spooky and a shiver worked its way up and down my spine in response. I couldn't even tell if there were actually buried people in here.

Maggie seemed to think so, for she lead me deeper and deeper through a mess of stone hallways until finally we came to what seemed to be a dead end. Maggie pulled something that looked like a crowbar from her bag and pounded on the padlock that was keeping the door closed that I hadn't noticed to the left of us. I gaped at her incredulously.

"What the hell are you doing?" I hissed. I finally began to get the feeling that I should have stuck with my original desires and not come with her at all.

Especially when she turned to _sneer_ at me.

_Maggie_. Maggie, my best friend in the whole world, _sneered_ at me.

What the fuck?

Maggie pounded on the lock one last time and it broke open easily. She took off the lock and pushed the door open and then gestured for me to go inside. There was one very dim light shining in the ceiling of the empty, cobwebbed room and I couldn't see what all was inside. No way in _hell_ was I stepping foot in that filthy death trap.

"Get inside. Now."

I glared at her and crossed my arms over my chest.

"Hell, no. Maggie, what the fuck is going on? You said we were here to visit your parents."

She sneered again. I hated the way the hateful expression twisted her pretty face.

"I lied," she said simply. "Now get in before I make you."

I stared up at her defiantly. Maggie sighed. Next thing I knew, I was being manhandled by my best friend. The shock almost prevented me from fighting back. I managed to sneak an elbow into her ribs and she lost her breath for a moment but it only seemed to infuriate her and I hadn't bought myself enough time to get away.

At this point I was about ready to panic. I screamed, the sound echoing uselessly off the stone walls. Maggie laughed. It seemed horribly familiar, a sinking feeling of de'ja'vu constricting my lungs, but I was still in denial.

In our brief struggle, she managed to get a hold of my wrist. She took advantage and twisted until it was pressed against its own joint. I struggled harder and she grinned before snapping it completely. I heard it before the pain registered. Then it did, white-hot and lancing up my arm, throbbing around my wrist, which was already starting to swell. I cried out in pain and shock just as Maggie – if that was even her name – shoved me through the door and closed it with a bang behind me. I heard something locking and knew that Maggie had come prepared with her own padlock.

I pounded on the door with my feet and uninjured hand for a while but when it became clear that Maggie was no longer in the vicinity, I tried to bust the door down by ramming it over and over with my shoulder. But it was built well and made of thick, sturdy wood with no give. When my shoulders could take no more bruising, I gave up and collapsed to the floor in exhaustion. I passed out moments later, whimpering _her_ name.

**Ж**

When I woke up, I was chained to the wall facing the door. I could barely move at all before the chains forced me back. The manacles were heavy and my wrist was throbbing so badly I just wanted to cut it off to get rid of it, as if that would rid me of the pain.

"'Bout damn time," someone muttered.

It was Maggie! What the fuck did she think she was doing?

The light, shining from a torch bracketed to the wall in the corner to my right, was too dim for me to see her, but I could make out her silhouette in the shadows.

"Maggie," I croaked. I paused. Damn, my mouth was dry. How long had I been out? I cleared my throat and tried again. "Maggie," I said, clearer this time. "The hell you doin'?"

Well, okay, I wasn't completely coherent, but my wrist was still hurting like a bitch and I didn't much like waking up shackled to a freakin' wall underneath a goddamn mausoleum!

Maggie sighed, exasperated. "I'm cleaning up. And exacting my revenge."

Huh?

"Huh?"

Yeah, I'm clever.

Maggie groaned.

"Really? You still haven't figured it out yet? Come on, Bells, I thought you were smarter than that. Hell, you're smarter than me, and that's saying something. So go on, give it a try. Piece all the little clues together."

I squinted at the shadow that vaguely resembled her shape.

"I have no damn clue what you're talking about," I deadpanned.

"Maybe this will help you, then."

The shadow I was staring at moved slowly into the light. She had to get close in order for me to see, and I could hear her soft breathing and feel her body heat. When I looked at her face, I was, for the first time in months, repulsed by her closeness, so much so I struggled against my chains despite the pain in my wrist.

Her straight, jet black hair was gone. Her amber eyes were no longer amber. Her face was paler, the skin even less imperfect than I had thought it was. She wore an emerald green cocktail dress to match her eyes and golden six-inch, needle-thin heels to match her short, curly hair.

It was _her_. Maggie was the fucking killer. All along, it had been _her_. How the fuck couldn't I have seen it?

Flashes of our times together flitted through my mind. How Maggie had panicked when the chimp almost grabbed her hair, how she'd grab my hand whenever I would try to play with it – her _wig_, I realized – when we were sitting together on her couch. How Maggie had reacted when I'd asked her if she wore contacts. The dark look in her eyes when she'd look at me...not desirous, as my hormone-crazed mind had dreamed to think, but dangerous, evil.

Maggie was the serial killer. The one who had been torturing teenagers to death for over five years without getting caught. The one whom I had seen kill Anthony Salvador.

And now I would pay for being in the wrong place at the wrong time.

F.M.L.

Seriously.

How could I have not _seen_ this? Was I really so freaking blind?

Maggie grinned. The look in her eyes was wild, almost feral, her teeth bared like a wolf.

I trembled with fear.

"_Yes_," Maggie purred. "Now you understand. I can see it in your eyes, the realization, the disgust, the fear. Now you know who I really am. And to think, you actually have a crush on me!"

She doubled over laughing at that. My cheeks burned with humiliation and revulsion.

"Had," I managed to whisper.

Maggie laughed harder. I jerked in my chains at the sound, remembering that night in the alley.

"What are you going to do to me?" I asked when she calmed down enough to hear me.

Maggie wiped a tear of mirth from her eye and snickered cheerfully.

"Bells, you were there!" I flinched at the nickname and her familiar tone, like she was just talking about us being at the zoo. "Granted, you were never invited to the party, but at least you got to see what it was like, right? Although, I'm afraid I'll have to keep you for a little bit longer than Timmy."

"Tony," I corrected through gritted teeth.

"See? You do remember! I'm gonna have to be really careful about this, though. I plan to draw it out for a long, long time."

I couldn't help but shiver and hated myself for giving her the satisfaction of knowing I was absolutely petrified with terror. I thought about asking her _why_ she was doing this but then decided that I really didn't want to know. Chances were she'd tell me anyway. If I was going to die, who cared if I learned all of her deepest, darkest secrets, right?

This hadn't been how I'd planned on leaving this life.

Maggie clapped her hands together, startling me. I bit back a moan of pain when the movement jostled my wrist against its manacle.

"Right, then! Now that the orienation is over, we get to get into the fun stuff!"

Good God, she was just as cheerful as ever. It should be against the law of creation to allow something so evil to be so goddamn _sunny_. We weren't at band camp, for crying out loud!

Maggie turned away and walked back into the shadows, her heels clicking on the filthy stone floor. I heard her rummaging around in her bag for...something. My imagination went wild.

It was almost disappointing to see she'd simply pulled out the mini-crowbar thing she'd used on the door's padlock. Then I remembered the viciousness with which she had demolished said lock and I paled. My stomach twisted and my breathing came fast. I struggled uselessly against the chains.

Maggie shook her head and smiled at me patronizingly. An embarrassing whimper escaped my throat and pulled harder at my restraints. I froze when she started patting the steel bar against her opposite hand, mocking me, toying with my fear, making it worse. I was humiliated and terrified and I knew what was coming before it did.

Like a cobra, she lashed out. She hit me in the gut first. My breath came out in a big whoosh and before I could attempt to suck it back in she struck again, this time in the kneecap. I screamed. I dimly heard Maggie reassuring me that it wasn't broken yet, just very badly bruised. Then she swung at my left arm, making contact with my tricep hard enough to crack the bone beneath. I only knew that because I could hear it, barely, through my own screeching.

God, I was already in so much pain. I wished it would blind me, so I didn't have to look into her beautiful face or see her gleeful smile, the evil gleam in her eyes as she beat me.

She laughed and I realized that I had started to plead with her to stop without even meaning to. Mostly, I think I was just begging for the pain to stop. That was all I wanted really. Blissful sleep, maybe. Yeah. She should just kill me. Wouldn't that be easier? Why go to all the trouble beforehand?

When she grabbed my knee and squeezed, I knew.

She did it for fun.

**Ж**

I easily lost track of time. I was pretty sure that if I stayed in this limbo of pain long enough, I would start to lose who I was. My name. My parents' names. My life, my memories. Was it possible to get brain damage when you've experienced no head trauma? I didn't know. Didn't really want to know, although the information might prove to be a welcome distraction.

Underneath the mausoleum, there were no distractions.

And apparently the room was very well insulated because I had screamed so loud and hard at times I was sure I'd wake the dead above me. Maybe no one but Maggie knew this place existed and they assumed the place was haunted. Wouldn't be too far-fetched, I supposed.

Not knowing what time of day it was, or what day it was, was almost as torturous as all the crap she was doing to me. It was like sensory deprivation, except all I could feel was the pain.

My clothes were gone. Like Tony's, they'd been shredded. They fell away after the...sixth? seventh?... umpteenth session. Normally, I supposed I would be mortified by my nakedness but I had ceased to care a long time ago.

The cuts she had made on me with her curved, bejeweled dagger were shallow. She had a bucket of some acid-like substance that smelled faintly like isopropyl alcohol that she would throw on me before leaving after each session. She'd ripped out my earrings, leaving jagged holes she'd sometimes let me see in the mirror she would bring just for the amusement of watching my reaction to seeing myself.

My arms were each broken in a few places, but I was still hanging from them. My feet were prevented from touching the ground by shackles set closer to the wall. My wrists and ankles were bleeding and scabbed from my struggles and inadvertent squirming. The wrist that Maggie had broken my first night here had started to heal and been re-broken so many times I was unsure it would ever function again. No, I knew it wouldn't. Nothing would. Not as much as it all hurt.

Not when I was never getting out of here.

Occasionally she did take the time to unlock my shackles and clean me up some. Preventing infection, probably. Couldn't have me die before she was done having her fun; no, God forbid that should ever happen. Usually I was passed out or sleeping when she did this, but sometimes I would wake. It didn't matter, I was too weak and broken to attempt moving.

One of my legs was broken in a couple places, too. Just one. My left, I thought. It was hard to tell the difference when the pain sort of blends together after a while. And my ribs were too, if the pain in my chest I felt whenever I took a breath was anything to go by. Maybe I'd get lucky and one would puncture a lung one of these days. It might be a slow way to die, but I doubted Maggie would notice in time to save me and it was preferable to die than continue suffering.

I would welcome anything but this hellhole by now. Hell, I would even go live in dreary Forks for the rest of my life without complaint. I'd love to see the rain again. Or the sun. Or...anything, really, but for Maggie and the creepy shadows that liked to talk to me when they thought I wasn't listening. Or maybe that was Maggie, too.

"Never touch me again..."

"Sweet revenge, tastes like honey..."

"Not so pretty now, is she?"

"Never see her family again, heehee..."

"Damn kids, all need to die."

"Die."

"Diediediediedie!"

"Ooh, heaven is a place on earth..."

"You make heaven a place on earth..."

"They say, 'In heaven, love comes first'..."

"Bitch can't understand, won't, who the hell does she think she is?"

"Bells..."

"Bellllaaaa..."

"_Bells_..."

"BELLS!"

I jerked, wide awake on this dark and smelly...morning? Meh, who knew.

"Whaddya want?" I said grumpily. If it was morning, I was not a morning person. If it was any other time, well I wasn't that either. I felt like shit.

Maggie giggled. She pushed a glass into my face and the straw sticking out of it almost poked me in the eye. I greedily took a long draw. It was apple juice today, hm? Yum.

I finished the glass quickly and she started feeding me the Happy Meal in her hands. I was _so_ glad I rated that high. Ooh...high. I could use a good high right now.

I tried not to bite her fingers off when she gave me a fry. I'd almost done that once (on purpose), and I was left starving for a...well, a long time because of it. It was just a stupid fish stick, too. So not worth it. Not even the slight gratification I got from her pain was worth it.

I sighed contentedly when I finished eating, enjoying a brief moment of semi-comfort before the storm would hit.

If I was expecting the torture to resume, I was sorely disappointed. No, not really. But it was a shock to open my eyes and find that she had pulled up a plastic folding chair in front of me and was staring off into space.

Huh. This was awkward.

I cleared my throat and she looked at me solemnly.

"I hate youths," she said. I blinked at her. "They're so stupid. They waste their lives, their strength. And when it's all gone, they just want it back so they can do the same stupid shit all over again. It's merciful to let them die before it comes to that. To clean them of their filth and bleed out the poison before it infects us all."

I couldn't believe what I was hearing.

"Am I hallucinating?" I asked no one in particular. My voice was scratchy and rough with pain. Maggie chuckled darkly. I narrowed my eyes, squinting. "Or is this a dream?"

"You still dream?" She asked rhetorically. I gave her a scathing look in return. Of course I didn't dream; I was always either passed out in a black field of nothing or sleeping through the worst nightmare a person could have without going insane.

Wait, scratch that. I was pretty sure I was at least halfway there by now. Damn. And there was so much else I'd had planned for my life...

Well, no, I guessed I hadn't. Maybe I _should_ be grateful. I'd never have to go through the hell of college applications.

"You've been here three weeks." Maggie announced abruptly. I stared at her, astonished.

"Have I?" I mumbled dumbly. It wasn't sure whether to believe her or not. It certainly hadn't felt anything like three weeks. Years, maybe. Decades, more likely.

"Two weeks and six days, actually."

"Huh." I grunted.

"That's it?"

"Well, what d'you expect me to say? My, how time flies when one's having fun?"

Maggie laughed heartily. I watched her hysterics dispassionately. Fucking monster.

"You're so funny!"

I made a gagging noise that she couldn't hear over her guffaws.

"Gee, thanks. Do I get a doggy treat? I miss the Beggin' Strips."

Her chortling, which had begun to die down, were renewed. I sighed and vowed to keep my mouth shut this time. The laughter was grating on my last nerve. So was talking, period. It was hard to concentrate on talking when I was trying to pretend that that twinge in my left shin was just a muscle spasm and not a broken bone knitting itself back together.

God, I hated this place.

"You know, I was once just like you. That's why you really attracted me, why I had to go through such an elaborate ruse to get to you."

I banged my head back on the wall behind me hard enough to see stars and then kept it there. Unfortunately, I didn't pass out. I wondered if it would be good idea to try harder. Maggie ignored me.

"You know, I was thinking I'd just let this go on to see how long you can last. I'm surprised you're even alive right now."

"Really." Though dry, my voice was strained.

"Thing is, I'm starting to get bored with this game. So this time is going to be a little different from what you're used to."

I hummed in assent, not really paying attention. Everything was throbbing, from my wrist to my arms to my ribs to my leg. With every beat of my heart. Damn, that hurts. That seemed to be the thesis of every other thought in my head.

_I hurt_.

"I'm going to start off by talking, like I am right now. I know we don't do a lot of talking these days, but I find that I'm missing our conversations. So I'm going to start by talking about your family and what I think of them, okay?"

"Whatever," I muttered tiredly. I didn't have the energy to look at her.

"Okay, then." I could practically hear that evil, gleeful grin she does when she'd feeling like giving me extra pain for no reason. "Let's see...

"Your mother. Renée, wasn't it? I don't see her much nowdays, but I remember when I used to see her all the time. She was really pretty, I can see where you get your looks from. Certainly not from Charlie. But you know that prettiness can get a girl into a lot of trouble. While spreading the thickness of her hot blood over her breasts and then lapping it up might be somewhat satisfying... Well, more than once I've thought about what it would be like to shove my steel rod up her –"

"SHUT UP!" I roared. Pain coursed through my entire body like electricity but it only fueled my ire. "JUST SHUT THE FUCK UP, YOU HEAR ME! SHUT THE FUCK UP!"

Maggie was smiling.

"Yes," she said, clearly pleased. Her pleasant tone hadn't changed. "I think we'll have lots of fun this time around."

**Ж**

My throat was raw and probably bleeding from screaming obsceneties and various insults and comebacks, anything I could come up with to drown out her voice. I didn't care about the state of my throat. Anger was keeping me awake, intensifying every little cut she had made on my body to emphasize the points she was making with her mouth. I didn't even care that I was merely playing right into her hands. My rage knew no compunctions about pride.

It had gone on for hours. Much longer than it ever had before. I had bruises in places I didn't know could have bruises. I had cuts in places I really, _really_ didn't want to think about, because if I did, I would remember the things she'd said, and if I did that, I thought I might literally lose it. My ears were ringing with the things she'd whispered in them, the gory details pressed determinedly into my mind. I violently cursed my brilliant imagination, a solid stream of cussing that I managed to prolong for several minutes in my head. I didn't feel any better afterwards.

It was only my anger that kept me from drifting off into insanity, I was positive. So I clung to it like a drowning man to a lifejacket.

I didn't know how long I hung suspended from the wall, seething in anger, but I imagined it was well past the time I should have passed out already, as I usually did from the pain at least if not exhaustion. I couldn't move an inch without wanting to scream. Every swallow was like shoving rusty razor blades down my throat and every breath was almost as bad, coupled with the sharp, stabbing pain in my ribs. I tried holding my breath but was left dry heaving, the most painful sensation to experience while hanging from a wall with multiple injuries.

I coughed and tears streamed down my face. I coughed again. _Argh!_ I swallowed the next cough and forced back a sob.

What the hell had I done to deserve this?

The anger was fading, giving into despair. Forcefully, I made myself remember the things _she_ had said to me, the things she'd promised to do to my family once I was dead, the torture so many times worse that she'd said she would put them through.

I threw my head back and screamed a primal scream of pain and rage.

Sometime later, I was still clutching at my precious fury. I heard a noise at the door and, terrified that she was ready to start in on me again, I fell completely limp and closed my eyes, feigning unconsciousness.

But I had no need to fear. She was just here to clean. She hated the smell of my waste and vomit as much as I did, and she hated it even more when it was all over me because she didn't want me to get infected.

I was like a rag doll as she unlocked the shackles. I fell to the floor face first and had to force myself not to catch myself or turn to spare myself any damage. My nose broke as a result and somehow I did not cry out in pain. It was a miracle that later turned out to save my life. Maggie laughed when she noticed the blood pouring down my upper lip and over my chin. I supposed that was supposed to be a test to make sure I was well and thoroughly under before she started cleaning. Tears streamed down my face as I tried to ignore the newest addition to my injuries.

Quietly, I gathered up the dregs of my remaining strength. I didn't have much left. But for some reason, I felt that it was terribly important. That I _needed_ to survive. That I was meant to do something else, somewhere else, that I was needed somewhere and had to survive Maggie to make it there. The voices of the shadows weren't always that bad, I supposed. It was as though there was a guardian angel watching over me, soft and sweet, encouraging me when Maggie wasn't looking, so I could keep going.

Well, I would.

Maggie did her work quickly and efficiently, humming "Umbrella" under her breath.

As soon as she turned her back to put away her supplies, I acted. Swiftly, I opened my eyes and found the mini-crowbar lying not inches from my face. I grabbed it and, without hesitation, swung my useless arm around until I managed to smack her in the head.

She groaned and swayed dizzily where she was kneeling. Dammit, not hard enough.

I swung again, making sure to use my shoulder, which wasn't injured.

_THWACK!_ With a loud cracking sound the rod came down on her head and she crumpled lifelessly to the ground. I cried out in pain at the jarring sensation in my arm, looking down at it grimly. In the dim light, I could see that it had straightened out. Well, at least it was set quickly.

I would have clutched at it with my other arm, but it was broken too. So I just sat there and whimpered, trying to gather the strength and courage to lift myself up on my one good leg, which hadn't been used for walking in three weeks. It probably wouldn't be able to support all my weight – although I had lost a few pounds, I was sure.

I shook my head, trying to concentrate. It wasn't an easy task. My brain kept trying to fog up. The pain in my extremities and, well, everywhere else, was excruciatingly distracting. Anger! I reminded myself sharply. I looked at Maggie and felt it swell up gladly, dulling the pain with the rush of boiling heat in my veins. I almost sighed with relief, except that relief was not an angry emotion and I needed anger to stay alive.

I twisted to look at the door about six feet from me. Why did it have to be so freakin' far away?

It took several minutes to heave myself up onto my right leg. Luckily, I'd hit Maggie hard enough she would probably be out cold for a while. I needed to find someone and tell them where she was before she could wake up and escape.

Like I was doing.

The thought spurred me on and I hesitantly hopped forward. My knee buckled. I stupidly tried to use my left leg to catch my balance, only to collapse from the pain that shot through it instead.

Shit.

I had twisted my head so my nose wouldn't break a second time; my face was aching enough, thank you. I tried again, more cautiously this time, breathing sharply through the blood filling my mouth. Luckily, the smell didn't make me nauseous anymore, now that I was used to it. I took a smaller hop and carefully bent my knee into the impact, shaking out pins and needles, trying to get my leg used to holding me. Finally, I managed to take three hops without falling over. I made my way slowly to the door.

When I was out, I heaved a huge sigh of relief that made my ribs protest quite vociferously. I groaned and fell against a wall, shutting my eyes tight as stars rapidly flew past them.

"_While spreading the thickness of her hot blood over her breasts and then lappng it up might be somewhat satisfying..."_

I growled and pushed off the wall, hopping at greater distances down the hall.

It seemed to take an eternity to reach the stairs. I thought about crying out for help, but I was a little afraid that Maggie would hear and wake up, plus I knew how much it would hurt and I was loath to prod at more hurts that could make me fail at my task before I'd really had a chance to succeed.

When I finally found the stairs up, I fell at the base of them and sat there for several minutes, panting raggedly and trying not to think about how much I hurt, _everywhere_. Blood, sweat, and tears streamed down my face, salty liquid getting into some of the shallow cuts. The sting made me get up before I could get too comfortable (as if that were even possible). I hopped up one step at a time, digging my torn nails into the stone wall and praying I wouldn't have an inappropriate Bella Moment while hopping for my life.

Hopping made me think of Hopscotch and bunnies, and for some reason, that made me start singing children's songs in my head.

"_You are my sunshine, my only sunshine, you make me happy..."_

Maybe I was losing my mind. Oddly, it was the singing, coupled with my suffocating anger, that helped me through my ordeal.

Somehow I made it to the top of the stairs. The mausoleum was dark and abandoned and I suspected it was nighttime although there were no windows to affirm this. I almost called out before changing my mind again. I wasn't even sure if my throat still worked. I really needed to find someone, though. Preferably someone with the enviable and rare skill required to dial nine-one-one.

I continued to ramble and sing in my head until I got to the entrance, then I tumbled through and fell on my back. My back stung like a mother and it probably wasn't a good idea to lay on it since the lashes could get infected, but I was comfortable, which was weird. I stared up at the night sky, breathing the fresh cemetery air like I was dying.

I probably was.

I got up again (how, I didn't know), and made my way across the dark, blurry cemetery. My foot sank deep into the loam with every jump. I looked up at the stars and smiled. Freedom. So close now.

The gate, of course, was locked. And there was no way I was climbing over that damn fence. I fell against the gate and slid to the ground, feeling utterly defeated.

Now I called out, loudly, as loud as I could, praying that someone would hear and that that someone wasn't set on torturing me to death. My throat was on fire, but I let the burn concentrate my incessant hollering. I couldn't recognize my own voice, but I assumed it was mine as I didn't see anyone else around yelling with that kind of desperation.

A man appeared. I did not know where he came from; I wasn't paying much attention, to tell you the truth. I mumbled something, although I wasn't quite sure if he could understand me. He was shocked and horrified, rightfully so. I imagined I didn't look too hot right then, definitely no beauty pageant material for a long while. He pulled something out of his pocket. When his fingers flitted over it I recognized it as a phone and felt saved.

The next hour was a blur. It took a while for me to pass out. I was pretty sure I was still pissed off at something or other. Couldn't recall what, exactly. I told the paramedics and the cops and the doctors and anyone who would listen about the bitch in the mausoleum's basement, and I was relatively certain that they listened to me because I could hear them talking about a serial killer or something like that. I was moving, laid out on a bed, and then I was being rushed through a building, prepped for surgery; internal bleeding or some such.

It was only when I heard confirmation that they'd found her that I could let the drugs take me in their arms and soothe me to sleep.

**Ж**

"Prison!" My mom spat angrily as she pittered around the house, cleaning cleaned objects. "She was supposed to be executed!"

"Her uncle's rich, dear," Phil reminded her gently. "I imagine it was his doing."

"Besides, she's in for the rest of her life, Mom," I added from my spot on the couch.

"You!" Renée turned on me accusingly. I held my hands up in the air with an innocent look plastered on my face.

"I didn't do it, I swear!"

Phil chuckled. Renée glared at him and he shut up quickly. I snickered at him, whispering, "Whipped!" where my mom wouldn't hear.

She knew I said something, though, and quickly turned her glare back on me.

"You, young madam, are very lucky to be alive! How you even managed to recover from all those broken bones in less than a month, I will never know! But it's all _her_ fault and she's not even being punished for it!"

I rolled my eyes.

"Mom, they declared that two _days_ ago," I emphasized 'days' with a dramatic gesture. "Aren't you over it yet?"

"Are you?"

I sighed and rubbed my eyes tiredly. No, I wasn't. And I'd lost a lot of sleep over it, too. But I didn't want my mother fretting over the matter constantly. It was bad enough that they had dragged out the proceedings to give Margaret Blatch's Uncle Marcus enough time to bribe everyone he could with as much as he dared. I was never going to forget, or forgive, or get over it, most likely, but that was because I was the only survivor of one of her attacks. It only made sense for me to be the somewhat depressed, frenetic, partially insane one. I didn't need my mom for company, thanks.

"Yes," I lied. "Out of sight, out of mind, Mom. It's not like she's gonna escape and come after me again."

Oops, that was a slip. It was a tiny worry I'd had since Blatch had had her sentence changed from lethal injection to about a hundred years or something in prison without a chance of parole. And although I really did not believe that she could escape, I'd just put the idea into my mother's head. Now I knew she'd never let it go.

Lo and behold, I was right.

"Escape! That bitch won't even think about it if she knows what's good for her!"

I hid a smile; I didn't need to encourage the woman. Phil and I shared a look that spoke a thousand exasperated words.

"She won't, love. Just relax, stop worrying about it so much."

"Worry! My daughter is tortured for three weeks and you tell me not to worry that the bitch might escape! You know what, no. I'm not having it. Bella, you're going where she can't find you."

I laughed incredulously. "_What_? Mom, she's in prison, she's not likely to find anybody!"

"If she escapes she'll go straight for you, and you know it. No, you're going to live with Charlie. You'll be safe in Forks."

I gawped at her wordlessly. I opened and closed my mouth like a fish before finally looking to Phil for help. He walked over to his wife (they'd gotten married a couple days before Maggie kidnapped me) and gently massaged her shoulders. She didn't relax.

"Hun, I think maybe you need to sit down and think about this rationally before you start making decisions like that."

I nodded approvingly. That was a good start. Then my hope flew down the drain. Phil was shrugged off as Renée stood imposingly in the middle of the room.

"No, I've already decided. Bella, pack your stuff. I'll even help you. You're going in a few days, and nothing you can say will change my mind. If the bitch escapes you won't be anywhere near her and that's exactly as it should be. I don't know _why_they didn't just _kill_ the evil, vile, little cretin..."

I bit my lip. 'Is she serious?' I mouthed to Phil.

He gave me a sympathetic look and nodded.

My shoulders slumped.

Great. So much for wanting to be anywhere but the damn mausoleum.

* * *

><p><strong>I do plan on continuing, but I'm not entirely sure where this is gonna go, so I thank you kindly for some patience. Tell me what you think and it may inspire me to come up with a real plot! And, as nice as encouragement can be, I'd really, really, really like some constructive criticism. Writing fanfiction is fun, but I'd like to improve my writing skills as well.<strong>


	2. Memory

_**Chapter One: Memory**_

_It is dark and gloomy and a million other things that make her want to cry out in terror. She watches the black for hints of shadows and movements that never come. She breathes deeply and tries to calm down, but it does no good._

_It's in the dark that she _sees_ things. It's in the dark that the nightmares come for her and eat at her soul like acid._

_Her fear of the night has gotten to the point where she forgets her name when the sun sets. Well, not completely. Alice, she remembers. But that's all. She can't even remember where she is, and perhaps that is the worst thing of all, for she is alone and has no idea if that is the way things are supposed to be or if there are meant to be warm arms encircling her waist and whispered words bringing comfort to her terrorized mind._

_It doesn't matter, she soon decides, if she is meant to be alone or not, because she is and that is not changing as she waits and waits for something to move and things to become clear._

_Unfortunately, they do._

_It's a vacuum. No sound or smell or taste or touch, but she can see with crystal-clear clarity the sharpness of the grays in what she has come to call her "premonitions". They last only seconds, but give her glimpses into a future that will happen whether she wants it to or not._

_They make her less than human._

_The creature she _sees_ lying on the floor of a mirrored room is the most gorgeous sight Alice has ever had the guilty pleasure of viewing. The young woman's pale, unblemished skin is slick with sweat and suffused with a delightful flush. Her thin lips are parted gracefully in an agonizing scream Alice is extremely grateful for not being able to hear, baring two straight, sharp rows of perfectly white, glinting teeth. Her back is arching upward in a beautifully erotic motion which, if not for the spastic twitching of the bones under the woman's skin, could be incredibly arousing. She is wearing strange clothes of a fashion Alice has never seen before, a tight sleeveless top with nothing but thin straps to keep it hanging from the woman's shoulders. She is grateful for the display of skin, however, as the scandalous attire reveals flawlessly corded muscles sculpted in the arms, toned so perfectly Alice is almost positive she must be the strongest woman alive. Her breasts, round and firm and clearly pebbled through the fabric, are molded too fittingly to the woman's top to be decent – although Alice is not complaining – and her flat, strong stomach clenches and unclenches underneath the fabric as the woman takes a breath and releases it with another excruciating, screeching vociferation. Two long, muscled legs clad in denim are tense with strain and lying flat on the floor in surrender to the pain. Her hands are clenched so tightly into fists that Alice can see dark, thick liquid pooling around the woman's fingertips where the nails are digging frantically into her palms. Dark, wavy hair cascades in a silky halo over her shoulders and frames a stunningly attractive face with hard angles and soft brows and gentle curves. A contradiction, she thinks, which is perfectly fitting for such a raging beauty._

_It is the woman's eyes, however, which truly capture Alice's attention. They are dark as night and glinting and shining with flecks of color Alice cannot understand – and it is now, more than in any of her premonitions previous, that she truly wishes she could see some spectrum of rainbow if only for those eyes. They shine with tears of terror and pain. They swim with regrets and loneliness and some semblance of hope that refuses to fade. They have a hard gleam of mixed determination and helplessness, a combination which, Alice is sure, must be causing a good portion of the pain the woman is apparently experiencing. More than anything, Alice wants to take her pain away. Here is a woman she does not know, but wants to, and there is nothing more in the world that Alice could want than to ensure that she never comes to harm._

_In her surveying of the tortured but ravishing woman, Alice almost misses it; three crescent-shaped wounds on the woman's slender wrist. They are bleeding and the blood is slowly pooling around her trembling form. Alice cannot shake the thought that these wounds bear a horrifying resemblance to bite marks. Around the wounds the woman's skin is inflamed as though infected and Alice can imagine that these are what is causing her pain. She suspects a poisonous animal of some sort is at fault._

_A lithe, ethereally beautiful man with long black hair sweeps into Alice's view. He hovers over the woman on the floor who is still screaming in pain and Alice wants to rip him away from her. As though sensing her presence, the man spins around to look directly at Alice, colorless eyes glinting with malicious amusement and hatred. His pale face is pulled back in a vicious snarl that takes her aback. His teeth, much like the woman's, are sharp and perfectly white as he bares them at her as though he is a rabid wolf. Alice feels a stab of fear but when she looks at the woman she is bolstered by some undiscovered courage to look the man in the eyes and snarl right back._

_To her pleasant surprise, he flinches._

_The image fades seconds after it began, but her furious anger at the man does not. She is positive that he is somehow the one responsible for her love's pain._

_A column of light filters into her cell and she reacts without thinking, pouncing on the man who comes in the door with a roar worthy of a wild lion. She claws at his skin and bites at his neck; she punches him in the gut and reels back in pain, for she may as well have tried to stick her hand through a brick wall._

_The man, a doctor wearing a distinctive white lab coat, remains largely unaffected by Alice's unexpected attack, although his attractively arched brows are drawn together over his crimson eyes in surprise. With little effort he pins Alice to the floor and whispers in her ear until she finally becomes aware of her surroundings._

_It's Doctor Theta, and he is very gently soothing Alice. Immediately, she feels ashamed._

_There she goes again, acting inhuman. Doctor Theta is wrong, she thinks. All the other doctors are right. She does not belong in a world with innocent people. She is a danger and a menace and she should be kept in the dark like so much scum. Not even the hot fire of electricity coursing through her body can cure her inhumanity. She is not Alice, she is nothing. She has never had a real family. She has never known love. She has never seen the light of day and certainly shouldn't want to. This cell is her home. She has lived in it for a year and it is where she belongs and it is where she has always been and it will be that way until death mercifully stakes its claim on her._

"_Relax, Mary Alice," Doctor Theta murmurs gently as he easily lifts her into his arms and places her on the ratty old cot she calls a bed._

_She looks at him and sees in his eyes that he is concerned. She sits up and her legs dangle over the edge of the bed, too short for her to even lightly brush the floor with her feet._

_She stares at the filthy wall behind him to avoid seeing how much he cares for nothing._

"_Did you have another premonition, Mary Alice?"_

_She purses her lips and refuses to answer, but Doctor Theta, bless his soul, takes this as confirmation._

"_Tell me what you saw."_

_She makes the mistake of glancing at him. He is kneeling in front of her so that they are nearly level; she has to look down a little bit to see into his blood-red eyes. To most, she is sure, those eyes would send people running. Like her, they are inhuman, terrifying, and frighteningly predatory. He is, she somehow knows, a hunter of mere mortals. But, being a freak, she takes guilty comfort she does not deserve from those eyes. He will not hurt her. She is not a mere mortal._

_In a low, mumbling voice she's sure he can't really hear, Alice describes what she's seen._

_The beautiful woman, at the very thought of whom her heart clenches._

_The evil man, at the very thought of whom her stomach twists with boiling rage. This time, she is able to keep from attacking Doctor Theta at the memory._

_The bite marks, the pain, the rage._

_By the end of her rendition a wave of overwhelming exhaustion pushes her into the thin excuse for a mattress on her bed. Doctor Theta smiles._

"_Sleep, Mary Alice. Have sweet dreams."_

_But Alice does not want to sleep. She never has sweet dreams, and Doctor Theta knows it. She wants to talk about her love, about the danger she is in, but her jaw is glued shut and it takes energy she does not have to make it open and close._

_The last thing she sees is Doctor Theta's concerned expression._

"_I must change you soon," he whispers to himself; Alice is sure she is not meant to hear, but she does anyway. "The others will fry your memories and then you may never be able to save her. I must find a safer place for my research. Things have become so complicated."_

_Alice's eyes slip closed as he leaves her cell, completing the darkness more fully, and she falls into a terrifying nightmare the likes of which she has not had in quite a while._

The first thing Alice saw when she opened her eyes was red. _Now_ she was pissed.

She growled loudly and leapt to her feet. Her hands buried themselves in her hair and tugged roughly, looking for some kind of release.

Carlisle was sitting patiently at his desk with a large book in his lap. As Alice paced furiously, he calmly closed the book and placed it on the cold surface of the desk, delicately folding his hands on top of it and waiting for Alice to calm down.

Alice didn't want to calm down.

She had been so close, _so_ close, to remembering something. It had been there, right behind her eyelids, playing out like a scene from a movie, and as soon as she had opened them it was gone. Poof. As though it had never existed. It was so infuriating.

The most frustrating thing about it all was that she knew that the memory she was searching for this time was important to the future. She knew that she needed to remember something, but she simply could not. It was as if she held the key to the secrets of the universe and had no idea where to look for the door.

It wasn't fair, and she wished she could cry.

"It was important," she hissed to no one in particular, though she knew that Carlisle was watching. "It was very important. I think I saw something when I was human. I don't know what. But it was important. So important."

She thought maybe saying it often enough would convince fate that it might just be important enough to let her remember _why_.

Her hands went back to pulling at her hair. She probably looked like a mess, but Alice really didn't care what she looked like at the moment. Her fists went to her sides and clenched sporadically as she rounded her prior seat for the thousandth time; she was pacing very quickly. To a human, she would just be a blur. Carlisle's eyes easily followed her in her circuits around his office.

He didn't say anything because he knew Alice wasn't finished.

"I saw it," Alice attempted to explain. She didn't really have the words, but she could try. "Like it was happening, I saw it. I remember being very afraid, and then very angry. But when I opened my eyes, it was like it had never happened. Like the memory doesn't exist. Like I never saw or felt anything."

She huffed and the next time she passed the chair, she collapsed in it and stared at the ceiling.

"Like I was nothing."

Carlisle leaned forward, an intently thoughtful gleam to his dark eyes. They were going to go hunting soon, Alice remembered, largely to take advantage of the sun when it came out tomorrow. It would stay out for the rest of the week and most of the weekend, barring part of Sunday, but those clouds would clear up in the evening. Alice liked to keep track of such things. Contrary to the beliefs of pop culture, they really didn't like staying cooped up inside away from light all day.

"So the meditation does work."

Alice shrugged. She really did not think that it did. It had taken her years of such quiet contemplation to get this far, and now she still didn't know what it was she had seen. If meditation did work, she would have at least one human memory now. But she didn't want to crush Carlisle's hopes. Or her own, for that matter. Saying it out loud would be so much worse than thinking it.

"Alice, look at me."

As always, Carlisle's calm, sympathetic voice tugged at her heart and lifted her head to reluctantly look into his kind, caring eyes. Sometimes Alice thought that she was just too lucky to have such a perfect family. Carlisle, as a father figure, was capable of making her feel better about anything. However, he was fond of logically rationalizing things so it was impossible to argue with the man.

"Alice," Carlisle was trying to be reassuring and succeeding. "The meditation _does_ work, you said so yourself. Now we just have to work on remembering what you see."

Alice liked how he made it seem like they were working together on this problem even though there was little that Carlisle could do other than encourage Alice.

"I don't know if it's possible, Carlisle," she admitted. "It wasn't like the memory was just slipping away this time; there was nothing to hold onto. One second it was there, and then it was just _gone_."

Despite her efforts to sound as calm and collected as he did, her voice cracked on the last word and Carlisle was at her side in an instant, grasping one of her hands in both of his. She tried to smile at him but doubted it looked like anything more than an ugly grimace.

"Then we have to find a way to keep it from disappearing."

A few minutes later, Alice found herself lying on the bed she never slept on in her room, staring at nothing. She had received some consoling comments from the other members of her family – particularly from Jasper, who'd seemed to be in some pain as her desolation, anger, and frustration hit him like a tidal wave. She'd felt bad enough about that that she had withdrawn to her room to try and get her emotions under control. It wasn't working very well. It didn't help that seeing Jasper in pain reminded her of the last time she had seen him that way, and suddenly all she wanted to do was run.

Alice stood on legs shaking with pent-up energy and opened her bedroom door, eliminating her mostly-soundproof bubble of privacy.

"I'll be back in a few hours," she quietly announced to the household. In response, there were a few murmurs of acknowledgement, but the murmur she waited for, Jasper's, never came. A pang of sorrow and longing pierced her still heart and she spun around to get away from it. She opened the glass door leading to the balcony outside her room and breathed deep, taking in a million scents of forest and rain and prey. The prey didn't matter; she wasn't hungry. But the forest mattered. It meant everything. And the rain smelled amazing.

Alice leaped as high into the air as she could, then relished in the speed of the drop; she felt like she was flying for one exhilarating moment that managed to erase the dark thoughts from her head. When she landed, she landed running, blurring past trees and boulders and unsuspecting wildlife. Alice jumped onto a branch sixty feet off the ground and hopped to another tree two hundred and fifty feet away from there. She continued like that for a while, climbing, dropping, leaping, twirling among the trees like some kind of demented monkey. Then she let herself fall into a small stream with a splash and kept running through it. She darted seamlessly between massive trunks and slipped into impossibly tiny spaces, emerging unruffled and determined to keep going.

All the while, her thoughts and emotions raced. Her dance with the forest echoed a more complicated dance with her heart, and she feared which would have to end first.

She and Jasper had loved each other for decades. _Decades_. There had been fire at the start of their relationship, a burning that would have consumed them if they hadn't given into it. But after the first year or so, the fire stopped raging. It became a softly glowing ember, then a spark, then nothing but ash. At least, that had happened to her. Jasper had admitted that his own passion was considerably less fierce than it had been to start, but for him it was still there, a little. He still loved her, but she couldn't see him as anything more than a good friend. And he knew that even before she did, and the look of pain on his face when he removed both their wedding rings was still branded hotly into her photographic memory. _We were never supposed to be together forever, Alice. We were never mates. Eternity is not ours._

Now he was trying to move on, but it was difficult for both of them. They were so used to each other, having been nearly constant companions for sixty years, that separation was agonizing no matter the cost. Alice had taken for granted how often she had been able to just turn around and see him standing next to her, silently supportive. Jasper needed distance now, physically and emotionally (what a laugh), but was afraid of returning to old habits (*cough* diets) if he took a sabbatical from the whole family. So he stayed with them in Forks, but his relationship with Alice was strained, even after nearly two years had passed since they had made the decision to move on for good.

They each had their own way of coping. Alice stubbornly plastered a cheerful smile on her face until it became real through sheer force of will. She threw herself into her quest to remember her past, and scanned the future almost constantly so that she would never be caught off guard again the way Jasper had caught her off guard that devastating night. She shopped, and wrestled with Emmett, and argued with Rosalie, and danced to Edward's compositions, and convinced Esme to keep her company while she learned how to cook horrid, disgusting 'human food'. She opened up her sketchbooks and filled them in their entirety, then splattered paint all over a canvas in an attempt to recapture that elusive fire. Jasper took up an acoustic guitar and began to write slow, sad country songs that Alice couldn't stand. He finally got around to writing a book on the history of the southern Vampire wars in which he had participated, and took to training all of them extensively in strategy and fighting technique the way he'd never quite got around to doing before. He hounded after rare Civil War items and added to his small collection, expanding it exponentially.

Nothingness, after all, wasn't much of a distraction for eternity.

Alice raced up and then back down the mountainside and blurred through the normal hikers' trails. She bounced between trees soundlessly and gracefully until she found herself running uphill again, alongside the river. She ran until she got to the end of the forest, where the earth fell away abruptly into a deep pool of water and a tiny clearing nearly a hundred feet below her feet. There, Alice finally stopped. She climbed onto a sturdy, jagged rock that jutted over the edge of the cliff and straddled the tip of it, legs dangling over the water, then leaned back on her elbows, relaxing.

She was about ten miles outside of Forks, only a mile from any discernible path in the forest – not that any human had ever been near here. It was rather hidden and hard to get to; it was easier to settle for the clearing below than try to hike up to the cliff's edge. Alice frowned. Was that supposed to be nature's way of being symbolic? She sighed. After over a hundred years of existence, her mind started asking pointless questions like that, entirely without her permission.

Alice kicked her legs out and started humming absently. The visions she had been suppressing throughout her run decided to catch up with her as she listened to the roar of the waterfall, her unnecessary breathing, and her mindless humming. Most of the visions were inconsequential, tiny things like what Edward would say when he heard Emmett thinking perverted thoughts about a fantasized threesome with Rosalie, or how Jasper would use Emmett's enthusiasm against him to beat him in a video game in a couple of hours. Tiny things that were only worth remembering if she decided to interfere. Then she was hit with another vision, an unexpected one, one that arrested her humming and her breathing and made her completely forget everything.

_She was in Mr. Banner's biology classroom in Forks High School. Alice knew this before she even looked around because she could smell the gross pickled specimens standing sentry atop the cabinets in the back of the room and the burning antiseptic stench from whatever cleaner the teacher had to use to clean up after the labs._

_Every color seemed more vivid, more real, than they ever had in any of her previous visions. Every sound seemed magnified even to her Vampire senses, and, what was more, it felt as if she were actually standing in the room, living – or at least existing – in this moment. But this moment wouldn't take place for another three days, seventeen hours, and forty minutes. She knew this instinctively._

_Lunch had just ended, and Banner's class was full of lethargic, sleepy teenagers. (Well, they would soon be sleepy, anyway – in an odd sort of vision-within-a-vision, Alice saw a couple students drifting off when they were supposed to be working and glimpsed a few more yawning and blinking rapidly.) Edward was in this class, and he sat, as usual, at a lab station towards the back of the room. What was unusual, however, was that the seat beside him was occupied._

_The girl was nearly as pale as a Vampire; somehow, that was Alice's first wildly irrational thought. Curious, Alice moved closer so she could better see her brother and the newcomer. To her shock, Edward's eyes were pitch black with the most intense hunger she had ever seen. He leaned as far away from the girl beside him as he could without falling off his stool, clutching the bench with a white-knuckled grip tight enough to put creaking finger-sized dents into the surface. He wasn't breathing, and a low, rumbling growl vibrated from deep within his chest, nearly loud enough for the girl to hear._

_The girl was not unaware of Edward's murderous glare. She blushed self-counsciously, causing Edward to flinch. Then her eyes hardened like diamonds and she clenched her jaw, straightened her back, and turned slightly to glower at Edward. Alice cautiously leaned in and sniffed the girl just as she exhaled an irritated breath. Alice's nostrils flared as she breathed in and discovered the most intoxicating scent she had ever smelled. It was a chaotic mix of strawberries, freesias, and leather. More overpowering than these, however, were the sweet, earthy smell of rain and the clear, fresh smell of snow. These five scents melded so seamlessly together Alice could barely tell them apart, and they all blended into one delicious, overwhelming, mouthwatering (or venom-inducing) scent._

_Curiously, Alice's throat did not burn, not that it should have anyway, being that this was only a vision. But she did stop breathing, for she found it impossible to think with that scent in her proximity. All she wanted to do was bask in it forever, but she had to remind herself that she was having a vision (something, Alice thought wryly, she had never needed to remind herself before). Inhaling a scent was not supposed to be so addictive, and it frightened Alice slightly._

_The new girl, lacking all sense of self-preservation, met Edward's glare with angry dark brown eyes. Her dark chestnut hair fell in glossy, somewhat messy waves over her shoulders, framing a face sculpted for beauty. She wore a form-fitting purple shirt and black hoodie over black skinny jeans and high-top converses. She'd apparently committed fashion suicide long ago, but Alice had other concerns._

_She was, Alice realized with eye-widening awe, Edward's Blood Singer, La Tua Cantante. Her blood called out to him like no other's ever could, and frankly Alice could not blame him for being so overwhelmed, not when her scent was so deliciously intoxicating even to Alice. She did, however, blame him for not leaving immediately. Screw Banner, fuck school and appearances: he was putting a human in grave danger! Alice felt a growl rising up within her own chest to challenge Edward's, but of course he was not aware of her presence, because she was not truly there._

_The three of them remained locked in that stalement for the entirety of the class. The new girl – Bella, Alice deduced when Banner called on her to answer a question (which she did so correctly despite obviously not paying attention) – glared heatedly at Edward, who was trying not to eat her, and Alice became steadily more enraged the longer Edward remained in the room. Other visions played out in the back of her mind – Edward murdering everyone in the classroom to get to Bella, Edward snatching Bella and taking her somewhere else to feed on her, Edward pouncing on Bella and draining her dry then and there, blood pouring everywhere, bloodlust completely out of control, his Vampire instincts totally taking over his consciousness. Alice began to shake, aching to rip him to pieces, or drag him out of the room, or at least scream at him, but nothing she could try would make a difference and all she could do was watch as her brother dreamed of sucking every last drop of Bella's blood from her veins. And Bella, the ignorant, vulnerable, oblivious human, looked for all the world as if she were actually thinking of acting upon Alice's own thoughts of violence._

_At long last, the bell rang. The noise was enough to briefly snap Edward from his daydreaming, and some common sense seemed to return to him at last. He grabbed his bag and sped out of the room just barely slowly enough to still pass for a human. He shoved his way out the door and disappeared not three seconds after the bell had rung. Alice looked at Bella, who stood there shaking slightly, holding her things, looking like someone had just shown her proof that Earth really was flat._

Alice heard the roaring of the waterfall. She smelled some wildlife, some trees, and a lot of rain. The rain brought to mind the new girl's intoxicating scent, and Alice shook her head in bewilderment. She had never had a vision so…bizarre. She'd never had one that felt so real, like she was actually _there_. And she had very, very rarely had one last so long. Alice opened her eyes to find that the moon was shining feebly through the thick cloud cover, and that it had rained on her while she was having a vision. She was still straddling the rock jutting over the cliff, still leaning on her elbows. She blinked rapidly to readjust, feeling disoriented and out of place.

Slowly, Alice regained her composure and stood. She had to get back to Carlisle. Maybe he could shed some light on this new development. And she had to warn Edward about his Singer.

The run back to the house only took a few minutes. It was quiet when Alice walked in through the balcony outside her room, although she knew that Carlisle and Esme were in their room talking, and Edward was in his room listening to music, and Rosalie was in the garage fiddling with Carlisle's Mercedes, and Emmett and Jasper were in the living room playing Black Ops.

But she only knew these things because of her visions, not because she was actively listening for them. Which was why she pretty much jumped out of her skin when she saw Jasper sitting at the foot of her bed, waiting for her. Alice frowned, and realized that when Jasper had heard her returning, he'd abruptly decided to check on her, too abruptly for her to have known ahead of time.

She repressed a sigh with difficulty. Old habits still died hard, apparently. If it had been Edward who had gone out for a run, which he did frequently, Jasper would not have bothered to greet him when he came back. Then again, maybe that was because Edward was always brooding; it was more unusual for the perpetually cheerful Alice to act this way, and she knew it.

"Alice," greeted Jasper casually – too casually. He reclined on her bed and put his hands behind his head, a picture of relaxation though his body was unnaturally tense. "How was your run?"

"Hi, Jasper! You startled me. And my run was…fine. Weird."

Jasper propped himself up on one elbow and stared at Alice.

"I want to talk about it with Carlisle first," said Alice, trying not to sound too waspish, "but I had a vision. There's a new girl coming to town in a few days." A ghost of a smile played at her lips. "Bella."

Jasper frowned. "Trouble?"

He could sense the worry twisting my gut, but he was misplacing it. "Not with her, no."

An awkward silence fell between them, thick and heavy. It made her want to run again. Her skin was crawling restlessly. Sometimes having limitless energy was a real pain in the ass.

"Did you hunt?"

Alice shook her head. "Carlisle was going to take us out to the mountains tomorrow and for the rest of the week because of the sun. I'll be more hungry then, so I thought I'd wait."

Jasper smirked. "Our own personal meteorologist."

Alice scoffed, then blurred over and smacked him in the back of the head before he could do anything about it. "Those idiots never get anything right."

They laughed lightly, the ice broken for now. Alice gestured upstairs, towards their adoptive parents' room, and Jasper nodded, padding silently from the room and back downstairs to join Emmett once more. After changing out of her disgustingly filthy clothes (she threw them away), Alice walked in the opposite direction and knocked softly on her parents' bedroom door. She bit her lip and shifted her weight from foot to foot until Carlisle stepped out into the hallway. She couldn't hear what he and Esme had been talking about, since the door was closed and the room was pretty insulated as long they kept their voices down, but it didn't seem like she was interrupting…anything. Eww.

Carlisle seemed to know without even looking at her that Alice wanted to talk. He gestured for her to precede him towards his study. There, Alice made sure the door closed behind them, then sat in a chair in front of his desk. Carlisle carefully placed himself behind it, folding his hands delicately over the top and peering at Alice with undisguised curiosity. She took a deep breath and, without further ado, told him everything she had seen in her vision.

Afterwards, Carlisle leaned back in his chair and stared at a spot to the left and behind Alice, thinking. For the first time since her failed memory recall in this same chair earlier that day, Alice felt calm. She waited patiently for Carlisle to gather his thoughts.

"Chief Swan has a teenage daughter who is coming to Forks Sunday evening," he finally said. "Her name is Isabella, but clearly she prefers Bella, if this is the same girl in your vision, which I believe it is."

He paused; Alice waited. A few moments later, he sighed and leaned forward to capture Alice's gaze once more.

"I only have a few theories as to why your power seemed to be…amplified for this premonition. But those theories are only guesses, and I'm afraid that I have to ask you to be patient, Alice. I cannot reveal these hypotheses until I know more about them."

Alice inhaled slowly and sighed. She nodded reluctantly. "It's not…bad, is it?"

Carlisle shook his head, his eye warm and compassionate.

"It shouldn't be. Alice, do you think this vision has any connection to what you may have seen in your past when you were meditating earlier today?"

Alice blinked, surprised at the change of subject.

"No," she said. It was her first reaction, but her gut was squeezing in on itself and Alice knew that she had just lied. Carlisle seemed to realize it too, for he tapped his fingers on the desk and mumbled something like, "Interesting," which would have been really annoying had it come from anyone but Carlisle.

"Carlisle, what do you think Edward will do?"

For there was no question that either Alice would tell or show him, or he would find out. She wouldn't hide something like this from her closest brother. He needed to know how close he would come to losing it.

"He may avoid attending school for a short time," Carlisle suggested. Alice nodded. It sounded like something he would do, but… "But that would only prolong the inevitable," he said, inadvertently voicing Alice's own thoughts. "Try not to concern him or the others with the power of your vision, Alice. I don't believe there is any reason to worry, but you know your siblings."

Alice smiled fondly. Yes, she knew her siblings. They would worry and gnaw at the issue like a dog would gnaw at a bone until they finally got to the marrow of the matter. Especially Rosalie.

Her smile faded. She was certain that she had had an important vision when she was a human, and she needed to remember it. Something big was happening, and it was centered around Isabella Swan. Alice resigned herself to scanning the future for Bella's arrival on Sunday, and then for anything to do with the girl after that. Nothing, after all, would ever be the same.

* * *

><p><strong>Come on guys, give me some honest feedback. Tell me it was crap, tell me it was great - fine, but tell me WHY or I can't get better. Thanks for reading, though!<strong>


	3. Glare

**Warning:** Sweet Mama Maggie is one sick bitch.

_**Chapter Two: Glare**_

"_Well, Bells," I said, "You ready for the next round?"_

_She had her back to me this time; I had turned her around when I'd taken her down for cleaning and now her pale back, totally unblemished, gleamed at me in the bleak lighting of my sweet escape._

_Unable to resist, I walked softly to her and touched her bare back. She flinched away from my touch and I could not help but smile. I stroked the smooth skin tenderly as I whispered sweet nothings in her ear._

"_I'd noticed you were starting to get tired of the same old thing everyday, so I decided to spice it up, if you don't mind."_

_Her jaw was clenched and her eyes were squeezed shut. Her arms trembled where they hung limply from their chains and I could practically taste her fear. Pure bliss._

_My fingers were light as they played across her skin. A muscle jumped as I passed over it and I lingered on the spot, leaning down to kiss it gently._

_She tried to jerk away from me and moaned in pain when she only succeeded in jolting her wounds._

"_Now, now, Bella. Have patience, we'll get to the fun in good time. Don't you worry about a thing. Sweet Mama Maggie will make it _all_ better."_

_I placed a wet kiss on the small of her back and shivered with pleasure when she shuddered with repugnance. I turned around and pulled from my bag what would probably come to be my favorite toy._

_I snapped it through the air experimentally and was pleased at the deafening crack that resounded. Bella liked it too; she whimpered angelically and buried her face in the wall that was already coated liberally with her crimson honey._

_Without further delay, I sent the whip lashing against her porcelain skin. The skin broke at the contact, spilling a thin stream of syrupy red liquid down to the crack in her rear. Bella, the poor, stupid doll, clenched her teeth against the pain and uttered not a sound. Her back arched until her stomach hit the wall. I watched the captivating movement with ardent fascination. She was so beautiful when she was in pain._

_It took another five lashes to get her wonderful voice to join mine in our gleeful cries of pure delight as criss-crossing patterns emerged on her lovely skin. When I deigned my artwork finished, I traced loving fingers over every inch. She had already passed out, but I did not mind. For now. There was always next time._

I jerked awake with a start and felt a moment of wild disorientation as I tried to remember where I was. The plane shook gently as it ran into some slight turbulance and that was when I remembered.

Right. Plane. Flying to Forks. To live out the rest of my adolescence in the middle of nowhere. To escape St. Christopher's Cemetery and Margaret Blatch, who escaped lethal injection.

To fail at forgetting, it seemed.

I grimaced, for I could not shake the images of my "dream". Blatch had left a lasting mark on me, like a scar underneath the surface of my skin.

A wave of nausea twisted my stomach into knots. I concentrated on everything but that. The hint of Fabreeze or some other air freshener on the air of the plane; its utter failure to actually freshen the strangely stinking air. The tiny shakes and rocking of the boat zooming thousands of feet above ground. The light pattering of raindrops surrounding me like a warm, dry cradle at the hearth of a fireplace. The soft, velvety cushion being gripped so tightly by my hands.

Slowly, I calmed down and was able to open my eyes once more.

It was not the first time I had dreamed that I was a vile murderer. Still, it had only happened a few times before, and never quite this vivid. That scared me a little.

But, like most things, I pushed it to the back of my mind so I could at least try to act like a normal teenager for Charlie. The plane was about to land.

**Ж**

We greeted each other with a brief one-armed hug and murmured pleasantries. By nature, neither of us were loquacious or especially affectionate. He smelled like beer and pizza and Dad, and I couldn't help but feel comforted by that. The plane had smelt worse than shit, and it had taken forever for me to fall asleep because it was so _loud_. The airport wasn't much better, but at least the rain outside was soothing.

I didn't much like having to ride in a cruiser, but I was grateful to be riding shotgun and not in the backseat. Charlie made an attempt at small talk and I humored him for a while before we both gave up and fell silent. I contented myself with listening to our quiet breathing and calm heartbeats.

The scenery was interesting enough to occupy me for the time being, anyway. It was just so _different_. Where Phoenix was all sand and dry weeds and cacti, this part of Washington was nothing but green forest and fog and more greens. Most prominent here was the sun covered liberally with silver fluff that dripped bits of water every few seconds. I had always loved the rain, though not enough to want live in it forever. In fact, I'd grown tired of it over the summers I spent with Charlie, which was why we started going to California together instead. As we got closer to Forks, the sky began to clear up a little.

I wasn't sure what my mom had told Charlie. I knew that he knew what had really happened, although the story I had cooked up (a half truth since I was not the greatest liar in the world) hadn't yet been tested. I was planning to tell anyone who asked that I had moved to Forks to give my mom the chance to travel with Phil during baseball season like I knew she wanted. Truth was, I probably would have moved to Forks for that very reason eventually, but circumstances took the choice out of my hands and I wasn't sure what Charlie's thoughts on it were.

I was trying to decide how to approach him with the topic when he cleared his throat and glanced at me briefly before returning his eyes to the road. His heart was beating slightly harder, like a bass drum pounding a staccato rhythm.

"What?"

"Nothin'."

I scoffed. Charlie half smiled and shook his head.

"Bells," he started, and I tried not to flinch. "I just wanted to say how proud I am. Of you. You know, after what happened in Phoenix and all. You've handled it all really well."

I blinked. _What?_ It was so unexpected for him to broach the subject himself that I almost forgot to respond.

"Um, thanks?"

Charlie chuckled lowly. His forehead was creased with worry. I didn't know what that meant at first, but after thinking about it I realized that he was worried about _me_. I felt a warmth spread from my fingertips through my whole body, like someone had turned up the heater. I swallowed heavily.

"Thanks, Dad." I said more firmly.

He looked at me in surprise and I smiled at him.

"You're welcome. Anytime. Hey, speaking of which, I was thinking of teaching you some stuff when you got the time. Weekends or after school when I'm off work."

"What kind of stuff?"

"Self-defense kind of stuff. Nothing big, just enough to, you know, get you out of a tight spot if you need it. Might even take you into the forest, teach you to shoot. If you want, I mean. We don't have to. Well, it would make me feel better, but you don't – "

"Char-Dad!" I interrupted. "You're rambling."

He blushed crimson and studiously avoided my gaze while I thought about what he'd said.

I already knew some self-defense from a free seminar when I was a kid, but most of that was faded in my memory now and, obviously, hadn't done me any good when it mattered. I didn't relish the thought of learning how to shoot, but at the same time I thought it was a skill that could come in handy. Although, if I ever got my hands on a gun, chances were my infamous luck would kick in and I'd just shoot myself with it.

Then I thought about Maggie and the ease with which she had simply grabbed my wrist and twisted it until the bone snapped. An echo of the scap resounded sickeningly in the small cab of the cruiser and I had swallow the bile that threatened to rise up out of my throat.

"Sure," I found myself saying. Charlie looked at me quickly. "I'd like that. It's not like I'll have a whole lot to do in a small town."

Charlie grinned and his eyes sparkled happily. Some of the worry melted off his face right before my eyes. That alone made agreeing to his proposal worth it.

"Great," he said gruffly. "We won't get started right away, you need time to settle in. And then you have school, so I guess we'll just start whenever you're ready."

I nodded quickly. "Yeah. Good idea."

As he pulled into the driveway of the house a few minutes later, I noticed something that had me staring incredulously at Charlie.

"Seriously?" I said to him. "I never pegged you as a biker."

It was a Honda Hurricane. I wasn't savvy in the way of bikes or cars; I only knew what it was because I had been looking at used motorcycles as a cheap way of finding my own way around Phoenix instead of needing to rely on my mom's car or public transportation. Phil had given me lessons on his bike before I got my license, so I had an endorsement for one. I had just never thought that Charlie would own a motorcycle; he seemed the type to think that they were too dangerous to be allowed to exist.

Charlie, to my confusion, blushed deeply for the second time that day. He parked the cruiser and shut off the engine. He didn't get out immediately and neither did I. He shifted uncomfortably for a moment before finally reaching over me into the glove compartment. Next to a nine mil and some papers was a keychain with two keys. One was silver and looked like a plain house key and the other had a black rubber casing around the head, engraved with the Honda insignia.

He handed them to me. "Surprise!"

I gaped at him, the keys dangling from my fingers.

When I didn't say anything, Charlie laughed nervously and ran a hand through his hair.

"See, I originally wanted to get you this Chevy that could tank through anything, but then Billy, who was going to sell it to me cheap, called me up the other day – I go fishing with him sometimes, you remember? – and said that there were some problems. He had to junk the old thing after all, so it turns out I couldn't get it for you, but then he came up with a great deal on that Hurricane and I just had to get you something, so..."

Charlie seemed to realize that he was rambling again and cleared his throat awkwardly.

"Do you like it?"

I laughed. He looked really worried about my reaction, so I quickly reassured him, "I love it, Ch–Dad. Really. I'm glad I won't have to get dropped off at school in a cruiser – that'd be a great first impression, I'm sure." We both laughed and I was glad, feeling light-hearted and almost happy for the first time in a while. "Thank you."

Charlie smiled.

Yeah, we'd get along fine.

**Ж**

Charlie had really been looking forward to me staying with him. I could tell because of all the effort he'd put into preparing my old room. When I walked in, I expected it to look like a little girl's room, since I had been a little girl the last time I had used it, but Charlie had gone all out. The walls were painted dark blue, and there were matching sheets along with a black comforter adorning the twin-sized bed. A tiny desk with an ancient computer stood one corner, and the small dresser was painted white to match the bed's headboard.

Thrilled that I hadn't been bombarded with pink, yellow and lavender, I bounded downstairs (nearly tripping twice) and hugged Charlie tight around the shoulders before announcing that I was going to cook him dinner. That plan screeched to a halt when I realized our meal choices were reduced to mustard, pickles, beer, sausage, and old cheese. Charlie said he'd planned on ordering out, but I refused, shuddering to think how long he'd been living off nothing but pizza and burgers. So he gave me some money and directions to Smith's so I could get us some real food.

The Hurricane's saddlebags weren't exactly ideal for heavy grocery shopping, so I didn't plan to get much, but I was feeling oddly energetic after my flight. Curious about the town, I decided to have a look around before the sun disappeared.

There were only two main streets. One had all the city services, like the courthouse, the police station, the fire department (which I didn't see getting much business around here), the city hall, and the hospital. I grimaced when I saw the hospital, foreseeing a trip too many in my future, given my typical clumsiness. The other street had a bunch of other little businesses, including Smith's, which was frighteningly small compared to what I was used to. There were several smaller streets, most of them leading to residential neighborhoods but some having other businesses that hadn't fit on Broadway or Main, like a diner that looked like it was packed for the dinner rush.

On impulse, I went down an obscure, poorly paved road leading into the forest. The sky cleared up completely as I rode deeper into the woods, the evening sun casting golden shafts of light through the canopy. At some point, the street turned into a narrow dirt path, but I kept going until it got too narrow for me to go any further. I got off and frowned at my boots, which along with a good portion of the bike had been splattered with mud. I shrugged to myself and took a deep breath, relishing in the smell of the forest.

There had been nothing like this in Phoenix, where it was dusty, empty, and dry outside the city and smog polluted every damn thing. Here, in Forks, it was like everything was so…pure. I could smell the rain, the mud, the trees. Hell, I could even smell the musk of wet fur, and when I glanced around for the source I was surprised to see a red fox staring at me from up in a tree. Startled by my gaze, it darted away and I followed it with my eyes until it was gone.

I had never seen things so clearly before. It was like I had better-than-perfect vision, and every little detail, from the shadows cast on the ground to tiny dust motes floating lazily through the sunlight, jumped out at me. Every vein on every leaf and each little grain of wood in the tree trunks seemed to hold this perfect clarity that made the world seem like a better place than I knew it was. It was…cathartic, almost. Like my problems didn't matter in the beauty of nature.

As I stood there admiring a better world than the one in my head, a curious sound reached my ears. I cocked my head, listening for it, straining my ears and frowning. It was an oddly dull roaring sound, like white noise, static on a radio or something. I took a step in the direction of the sound before I could think better of it, and promptly tripped over a root and fell flat on my face for my trouble. I groaned pathetically as I brushed mud, leaves and twigs from my clothes.

Then I cursed myself when I kept going forward anyway.

It didn't take long to find the source of the noise. Unfortunately, it was well off the beaten path, in the roughest patch of woods I had yet encountered (which wasn't saying much), and I was just asking for that hospital trip the longer I stayed. By some miracle, I didn't fall over again, and by the time the roaring noise was loud enough to identify, the ground had evened out a little.

I expected to be panting after my impromptu uphill hike, but I wasn't even sweating. I must have walked about a mile before I finally broke through some thick foliage, flinching as the brambles scratched my skin, into a small clearing. I blinked, amazed that I had found it. Not twenty feet away from me was the largest waterfall I had ever seen (okay, so I hadn't actually ever seen one before), crashing down from a jagged cliff into a pool at my feet. A small, slimy boulder stood nearby and I grinned as I climbed onto it, slipping comically before finding purchase and seating myself on the damp surface.

I was mesmerized by the way the light of the sunset seemed to dance on the water. The water rolled in ripples and tiny waves, looking light and golden and pure. It smelled of warmth and peace and I hugged my knees to my chest as I basked in it. I had always loved water. While I was clumsy as hell on a flat surface, the water always felt more like home to me. I had been on the high school swim team in Phoenix, although I suspected that Forks wasn't large enough to have one. Even if they did, I wouldn't join. My heart wouldn't be in it.

I wasn't sure how long I sat there enraptured by the water and the sunset, but at some point I became aware that I was being watched. I took in a deep breath, nostrils flaring, and was met with a deep musky scent from somewhere to the left and behind me. I slipped off the rock and spun around to find myself face to face with an enormous black bear. My heart leapt into my throat.

_Ah, shit_.

I was dead. I was _so_ dead. The bear had been pawing into the pool, contentedly fishing and oblivious to my presence, but my abrupt movement and quickened, frightened breathing startled it. It reared up on its hind legs and roared, baring jagged teeth the length of my forearm. Water sprayed from its claws as they erupted from the pool. Beady black eyes glared murderously at me as I stood petrified under the heat of its stare. I couldn't even scream, I was so utterly frozen by fear.

It lowered itself to the ground with a small splash and began to lumber towards me, clearly intent on charging. I had nowhere to go; running was pointless. But I hadn't survived hell to die like this. I hadn't lived through unimaginable horrors only to be quietly mauled to death because I'd been too stupid to pay attention.

Welcomed heat rushed through my limbs, a fierce anger that ripped through my entire being. I fell instinctively into a low, defensive crouch and braced myself for impact.

But the impact never came.

A tiny figure flew down from above, like a pale-skinned angel. She jumped from somewhere over the waterfall and barreled like a bullet into the bear's side. The bear roared as it staggered sideways, a swipe from its claws just barely missing my face; I felt the wind of the attack blow past me. I straightened from my crouch and stared open-mouthed at the beautiful creature that had saved me.

She was impossibly gorgeous. The girl had jet black hair spiked in every imaginable direction and eyes that shone the color of topaz. Her skin glittered where the golden sunlight struck it, creating a halo around her that made her truly appear to be an angel. She had leapt upon the bear's back and was now holding its neck in her arms. With a smooth, fluid motion, she broke its neck like it was nothing more than a thin twig, releasing a furious growl to echo the resounding snap of broken bone. A moment later, a guttural snarl escaped her lips and throat, an expression of pure fury, and she easily lifted the dead bear with one hand and _threw_ it across the clearing.

I ducked reflexively as the bear flew straight over my head and into a tree, cracking the trunk and causing the tree to fall halfway into the pool of water. The bear didn't stop there, flying straight through and into the next one before finally falling to the ground like a sack of potatoes.

I turned to gape at my savior. She stood only a few feet away from me, nearly within arm's reach, and appeared entirely unruffled by her tussle with the bear. She met my eyes and we stood silently for a moment, as if whatever had just happened – whatever was _happening_ – was too majestic to interrupt. I felt as if someone had lit my gut on fire. I could smell her; she smelled delicious, more amazing than anything I had ever smelled before, like honey, woodsmoke, pine trees, and laughter. Her perfect, pale pink lips mouthed my name, "_Bella_," and her expression became pained. Before I could reach out to her, she turned on her heel and jumped into a tree, using a branch as a springboard to launch gracefully over the top of the waterfall, where she left my sight completely.

It was dark by the time I got back to the Hurricane, but somehow I survived. I couldn't get the girl's beautiful pixie-like face and glittering eyes out of my head. Who was she? _What_ was she? How did she know my name? How the hell did she decapacitate that bear so quickly and easily?

My mind was reeling as I rode back into town, and my fingers felt numb as they handed over the cash to the clerk at the supermarket for the groceries I barely recalled putting into the cart. There were eggs, bacon, milk, bottled water, cans of peas, steak, and little packets of instant mashed potatoes that would do until I could get more things.

Charlie was thrilled with the purchases and didn't seem to notice that I was miles away, left back in that clearing while I seared our steaks medium-rare and served them on the tiny kitchen table.

That night, though I hoped I would dream of the girl that had saved me, I had another nightmare through the eyes of Margaret Blatch.

**Ж**

_My Bella's frame was trembling. Her eyes were squeezed shut and every now and then a small whimper would escape, unbidden, from her lips. In one of my hands was one of hers. I was rubbing my thumb in small, soothing circles against the back of her hand and whispering comforting things in her ear._

_My other hand trailed lightly across the numerous gashes in her flesh._

_I smiled when I reached a particularly painful cut and Bella twitched involuntarily. I quickly wiped the smile from my face and whispered, "It's okay, Bella. Shh. It'll all be all right. Don't worry. I'm here, I'll take care of you."_

_She whimpered in disagreement, unable to form words. I suspected she would only scream if she tried._

_I lazily grinned another pleased grin._

_My hand was now dry. I sighed and dipped it back into the tin pail that I had filled with isopropyl alcohol, lemon juice, and a special hot sauce, Spontaneous Combustion, that was hotter than anything else I could find. Quite a disgusting concotion, really, and it stank so sweetly. I swished my hand around, letting the liquid whirl through my fingers, then pulled it out again. I let it drip for a few seconds, stilling my own breathing so Bella could hear nothing but the tiny plops of the liquid. The powerful hot sauce I had added was burning my hand, but I relished in the sensation._

_Like so many times before, I held my hand under Bella's nose, waiting until she made the mistake of breathing deep – she flinched violently at the stench – before setting to work once more. My fingers dipped into a bloody crevice directly underneath her collarbone. I pressed hard, squeezing the juices from my fingers into her skin._

_She screamed and I could not hold in my laughter, my other hand squeezing hers so tight her bones popped._

**Ж**

Charlie was gone when I woke up on the morning of my first day at Forks High School. The sun refused to shine through the cracks around my thin black curtains; it was completely overcast again. When I finally cleared my head of horrific images, I looked at my alarm clock and sighed.

I really did not want to go to school.

Exhausted by the evening's events, I hadn't bothered to unpack anything before I went to bed. As a result, most of my clothes were a little wrinkled, but I managed to find a purple Suns T-shirt that was still decent. Feeling lazy, I only half-heartedly brushed through my hair after a short shower and threw on the first pair of jeans I could find. Breakfast consisted of scrambled eggs and bacon, and by the time I was done I still had twenty minutes to kill.

I wandered a bit aimlessly around the house for a couple minutes, but I needed something to occupy my mind. It was impossible to shake my savior's face from my mind's eye no matter how hard I tried, and it was killing me. She was powerful, gorgeous, and too perfect to give me the time of day, but she had saved me. I growled at my wandering mind for the millionth time. _Screw it_. I shrugged into a hoodie, grabbed my bag, and stepped outside. Though humid, it actually wasn't as cold as I had feared it would be, and it wasn't raining, either. I slung my leg over the bike, secured my helmet, and sped off towards a new chapter in hell.

The student parking lot was nearly empty – surprise, surprise, this early in the morning. I was glad to avoid the main crowd. I had no doubt that in a small town like this, news of Chief Swan's daughter coming to stay for a year would have spread fast, and questions were the last thing I needed. Hopefully I could find someone to help me get used to this place that wouldn't pry too deeply into my personal life.

Curiously, the campus seemed to be divided into separate buildings, and I resigned myself to asking for a map when I got my schedule from the office. The administrative building was easy enough to find, seeing as it was right next to the staff parking lot, and consisted of only a single floor, so I wasn't too worried about getting lost yet.

The secretary at the reception desk in the main office looked like a granny from hell. Her lipstick was the color of old raspberries, covering lips that curled upwards to reveal crooked, coffee-stained teeth. She wore hideous purple spectacles with fake jewels sparkling in the corners and her flaming red hair was done up in a frizzy, messy bun that made me cringe. She wore a bright yellow shirt with purple flowers and a long baby blue skirt. Now, I'm far from being fashion-conscious, but this woman was just…ugh.

But she was nicer than her appearance gave her credit for. She gave me my schedule, apparently knowing who I was before I even said anything (creepy, much?) and explained where all my classes were. And what the teachers were like. And how horrible some of the subjects were. And what so and so teacher did to piss off the superintendent the other day. And on. And on. By the time I left the office, I knew far more about the granny from hell and this school than I ever wanted to.

I was in such a hurry to get away from the woman that I didn't see the poor guy standing around the corner of the building. All I saw was a flash of blonde hair before it felt like I ran headfirst into a fucking rock. I staggered backwards, tripped over my own feet, and landed in an awkward heap of blushing mortification.

I peered through the dark curtain of hair covering my face and saw a lean, handsome boy with shoulder length straw-colored hair looking down at me with a rather shocked look on his face. I huffed and struggled to my feet. The boy's shock morphed into mild amusment, his warm, light brown eyes glinting. He held out his hand and I took it, holding back a gasp at its cold frigidity. It wasn't _that_ cold out, was it? Boy needed some gloves, bad.

"Are you all right?" he asked me. His smooth, confident voice had a hint of southern accent to it. He put his hands in his pockets after I steadied myself and released him a little too quickly. I brushed my hair from my face to hide my nervousness and embarrassment, fingers nearly getting caught in a knot.

"Fine," I muttered. "I'm Bella the Klutz, sorry for knocking myself out on you."

The boy laughed warmly. It was an intriguing laugh, as though he was not used to laughing but had been startled into doing so genuinely. As if realizing this, he stopped abruptly. He narrowed his eyes at me as if I were a bug he was trying to study. I thought there were a lot more interesting bugs to dissect than me; his stare was unnerving.

"I'm Jasper," he introduced himself. "This is my sister Rosalie."

I blinked. Sure enough, Jasper was not alone. A model had escaped the Paris runway and hid in Forks High School, posing as a student. She stood close to Jasper and, strangely, looked as though she was preparing for a fight to break out, on the verge of throwing herself between the two of us. Her eyes, like Jasper's, were a sort of light brown, almost butterscotch color, and were narrowed at me suspiciously. She had beautiful flowing blonde hair, perfect curves, and a face that seemed to have been carved out of the finest marble and painted on by the best painter in the world.

Now that I wasn't lying tangled up in myself like a clumsy pretzel, I felt an odd, heavy sensation in my gut. The two of them together made me extremely uneasy. My fight or flight instinct was starting to kick in, and it was telling me to run. Fast.

Rosalie took a step closer to me, putting Jasper slightly behind her. I took a single step back and crouched a bit, watching her warily. One wrong move, and I was gone like a bullet. She seemed confused about my reaction, but took another step forward, adopting a threatening stance. I wasn't sure how it was threatening, exactly, because all she was doing was standing there glaring at me, but I knew it was threatening.

"Listen, _Bella_," she hissed, mocking my name, and my muscles tensed of their own accord. "You just stay away from my family, got it?"

Fight or flight was definitely telling me to take flight. I nodded stiffly, too confused and frightened to do anything else. Rosalie smiled a perfect, mirthless smile and turned on her heel just as the bell rang. Jasper gave me an apologetic look, but I shook my head and Rosalie called after him, so he left me standing there, dumbfounded.

I had somehow made an enemy before my first class had even started.

It took me a few minutes to find the classroom, and I was late, but the teacher didn't mind and didn't force me to introduce myself to the class, for which I was grateful. I sat next to dark-haired girl who looked friendly enough – friendlier than Rosalie, certainly.

"I'm Angela," she whispered as Mr. Varner lectured about numbers. Ugh. Math. I had always hated it. Algebra was freakin' pointless, trig was worse.

"Bella," I mouthed back. She smiled happily.

The class could have been worse. I was tense for most of it, waiting for Angela to start grilling me, but she was sweet and nice. Too nice, I thought. It made me anxious. I would have preferred it if she were more standoffish, but that wasn't fair of me, especially since I didn't understand why I felt that way. At least I had someone to share my complaints with, which was always fun. Angela told me all about her 'study group' and how they collaborated to get all the answers for the homework and for the tests in advance. She offered to let me join, so that was one less class to worry about.

After the bell rang, Angela introduced me to a guy who was apparently part of her group of friends, Mike Newton, who showed me to my next class. Mike was like a puppy, all too happy to do anything I asked of him After the first couple minutes of putting up with it, I decided that he was actually more like a yapping puppy biting at my ankles that I wanted to drop kick out of the fucking school. I hated being the shiny new toy. It wasn't like Mike was really interested in me for _me_, and that rubbed me the wrong way. I thought he might be an okay guy (for a teenage guy), if he'd stop trying to impress me with things that were far from impressive.

It was even worse when we got to Spanish, where we sat next to Jessica, who had such an obvious crush on Mike it was all I could do not to run to the nearest bathroom and see how my eggs and bacon tasted the second time around. Luckily, Jessica enjoyed talking. All I had to was nod along with a fake smile and I could pretend that I was anywhere but here without anyone being the wiser. Mike seemed undeterred by my coldness, unfortunately.

I was aching to be left alone by the time the lunch bell rang. Mike and Eric, a pimply, greasy yearbook nerd I met in English, were fighting for my attention, and I was trying ignore both of them. Jessica was pretending to be nice, rambling on about something I couldn't care to listen to, while glaring at me whenever she thought I wasn't looking. I was sick of answering questions by that time, especially since Eric seemed determined to do a piece on me in the school's online newpaper. It was the same damn thing over and over.

"_You're Isabella, right?" "Bella." "Chief Swan's long-lost daughter?" "Yep."_

"_Where you from?" "Phoenix."_

"_Why did you move here?" "Felt like it."_

"_Aren't Arizona people supposed to be all…tan and stuff?" "I'm part albino."_

"_What's it like being in the sun all the time?" "Hot."_

"_Did you have a boyfriend in Phoenix?" Sigh. "No."_

As I sat at their table with my lunch, though, Angela joined us, holding the hand of her boyfriend, Ben. Some small talk revealed that they had been together since their freshman year, and the two of them were the best company in the school I had found yet. Ben was head over heels for Angela and had a great sense of humor. I was still a little wary that Angela was being so nice for no apparent reason, but I managed to hide my uneasiness. Speaking of which, I hadn't run into Jasper or Rosalie again (literally or otherwise), although I had seen Rosalie walking by the lockers holding the hand of a giant, muscle-bound beast with dark, short-cropped curly hair.

I was smirking at Ben as he told a story about eating a hot dog while hanging upside down off the roof of his truck when I saw something out of the corner of my eye. My heart did an erratic dance, leaping into my throat, sinking down into my gut, then rising up again to beat so fast that for a moment I doubted whether it was beating at all. Then it pounded once, hard, hurting my ribs, and seemed to stop altogether.

It was her. My body felt numb. It was her, the impossibly gorgeous pixie that had saved me yesterday, throwing a bear through a freakin' tree. It was _her_.

Ben seemed a little put out that I hadn't laughed at his punchline, which I had completely missed to the dull roaring sound in my ears. Angela shook my shoulder slightly and asked what I was looking at and I flinched away from the contact, my skin crawling. My chest felt tight and I couldn't talk, for some reason; black spots with multicolored halos were appearing in my vision. I wasn't breathing. As soon as I realized that, I took in a breath, choked on it, and gestured wordlessly at the raven-haired beauty that had just entered the cafeteria to distract the table from my apparent demise.

"_Ohhh_," said Angela, like she had just comprehended something that was previously difficult to understand. "The Cullens."

Behind my savior was Jasper and, behind him, Rosalie and her hulking boyfriend. Behind them was a beautiful boy with awesome messy bronze-colored hair and yellowish eyes. I couldn't keep my attention on any of them for long, however, not with my savior so close.

"Who?" I managed to breathe.

Jessica snorted disdainfully. "Don't bother. They all hate us. Fucking_ freaks_."

I turned towards her so fast I heard my neck pop. I glared at her so heatedly she flinched. Angela giggled quietly into her hand. I glanced at her, expression softening a little, and Ben nodded at the group – the Cullens – who sat at an empty table separate from the rest of the student body.

"Don't listen to Jessica," he said. "She was rejected by two of them in the same day."

I smirked when Jessica loudly protested that that was not what had happened. Luckily, Angela interrupted, finally explaining who they were.

"They were all adopted by Doctor Carlisle Cullen and his wife, Esme. The two blondes are actually related, Jasper and Rosalie Hale. Rosalie's boyfriend is Emmett, and sitting next to him is Edward." Emmett was the huge one, of course, and Edward was the guy with the cool hair. I didn't care about them.

She hesitated, looking over my shoulder at their table. I looked away from her to identify them, only to see them all looking back at me. I flinched in surprise. They were all unnaturally beautiful, sitting so regally as a group together. Jasper appeared rather calm, sending me another apologetic look, but his mouth was twisted slightly in a grimace, like he was in pain. Rosalie looked like she wanted to kill me. Edward seemed supremely frustrated about something, and Emmett, with an arm wrapped around the chick who wanted to kill me, smiled broadly, dimpling his cheeks and revealing perfectly white teeth. And the fifth Cullen…

Angela cleared her throat, but I couldn't tear my gaze away from her. She was looking at me with no expression, but her eyes revealed that she seemed to be going through some kind of inner turmoil. "The little one is Alice."

"_Alice_," I whispered, in almost exactly the same way she had said my name yesterday. As if she could hear me, her lips parted like she was going to respond, the corners tilting upward in a tiny smile. Her eyes were bright, shining almost, like molten gold. Her skin was no longer glittering, but her spiky hair and beautiful face looked just the same. "Alice," I whispered again, surprising myself. "You saved me."

Alice flinched. I was almost positive that she had heard me, even though it was impossible. She was sitting all the way across a noisy cafeteria, for cryin' out loud.

"How?"

Alice shook her head at me.

"I'm sorry," I heard and saw her say. I frowned deeply. How had _I_ heard her? It wasn't as if she had shouted loudly enough for the whole school to hear.

"What the hell?" I muttered.

Alice shook her head again, pushed her chair back, and left the room so quickly she was almost a blur.

"I wonder what that was about?"

I shook my own head to clear it of the fog Alice's presence had placed in it. Angela, who was sitting closest to me, hadn't heard me whispering. That would have been a little hard to explain.

"I don't know," I murmured, looking down at my food. "I don't know."

I glanced up to see Rosalie still glaring at me.

**Ж**

I had biology with Mr. Banner right after lunch. After the lunch I had had, I was ready to go home. Or hunt down Alice and force her to explain a few things. Either option was equally desireable really, so it was with heavy feet that I allowed Mike to drag me into the classroom. Luckily, the seat next to the pathetic puppy was already taken. Unluckily, the only seat available was next to a Cullen, and not the one I wanted to talk to. Frustrated, angry Eddie with the cool bronze bed-head sat by the only empty stool in the class.

I sighed, contemplated turning back around and ditching the class, and finally decided to make the best of it. Angry Eddie was Alice's brother, after all, or seemed to be, so he should be able to reveal something that could explain how such a tiny person was capable of tossing a gigantic bear through a tree trunk five times her width.

When I sat down, he leaned away from me. Okay, that was irritating. Did I stink or something? I surreptitiously sniffed myself, but nothing seemed to emanate so strongly as to make him – whoa, how was he still balancing on that stool?

Now, this was just insulting. Mike and Eric were hardly good indicators of my attractiveness, but I obviously wasn't _that_ terrible to be around. Edward was pretty hot, not that I was looking for a relationship, and his disgust was a bit degrading. I felt a blush creep up my neck and into my face. Edward's nostrils flared and he turned his pretty little head away from me.

I was just about to tell Eddie boy to act a little more mature – like, five – but Mr. Banner started the class. A few minutes in, I realized he was covering a topic I had already learned in Phoenix, so I didn't need to pay attention. Ed was still glaring at me, though. I could _feel_ it. Like two burning holes in the side of my head. I was beyond insulted, now. What the fuck was his problem?

My eyes were glued to Mr. Banner, but I couldn't really hear him. Edward sounded like he had a stomach ache or something, because a low, nearly inaudible rumble echoed from his chest. The growling sound grew louder. Okay, that was _it_.

I clenched my jaw to keep from screaming at him, straightened up in my seat, and turned to face him. His eyes were pitch black, burning hatred into my soul. Well, two could play at that game. If he wanted to be pissed off at me for no reason, I could be pissed off at him for it. Ass-hat. Edward never blinked. He never twitched. I was pretty sure he wasn't even breathing. He held the surface of the table in a death grip and leaned as far away from me as he could without falling off his stool.

My uneasy fight or flight instinct was kicking in again, only this time it was telling me to would be a hopeless fight, but fighting was necessary. The instinct was telling me that I wasn't the only one in danger, so running wasn't an option. This psycho could fucking kill everyone.

I didn't blink, either. And I couldn't look away from him. I was afraid that if I did, he'd lose it and start killing people. It didn't make sense, it wasn't logical, but I knew that keeping eye contact with this bastard was the only thing that was keeping him from attacking me. It was essential to my survival, and possibly to the survival of the rest of the goddamn class.

Mr. Banner asked me a question and I barely heard him but answered with what I thought was approximately on the right topic. He left me alone after that, so I guessed it was right. It didn't really matter. All that mattered was holding Edward's gaze before he did something monumentally stupid.

When the bell rang half an eternity later, it seemed to jolt Edward back to reality. He surged up from his stool and disappeared. I stood as well, holding my things and staring after the bronze-haired Cullen. I ran a shaky hand through my hair, trying to calm down. What the hell _was_ that?

"Are you okay?"

I jumped. I hadn't realized it, but I had left Banner's classroom and was standing in the hall trying to regain my composure. I looked around to see who had spoken…and my heart stuttered to a halt for the second time that day.

I inhaled sharply and tried to steady myself without holding onto anything, feeling suddenly dizzy. All the colors in the world seemed oddly more vivid right now, but bleeding together in a mish-mash that didn't make sense.

"Your brother has some serious issues," I managed to utter semi-calmly after a moment. I was rather proud to say that my voice was only trembling slightly.

Alice laughed, and I had to close my eyes at the sound, it was so enchanting. "Don't take it too personally," she said.

Then I seemed to remember that I needed to talk to her. Before I could open my mouth, Alice raised a hand to stop me. My own hands twitched as if trying reach up and take hers.

"Don't," she whispered, looking around the swiftly emptying hallway. "I know you have questions, but I'm sorry, I can't answer them."

I released an incredulous bark of laughter. "Are you fucking serious?"

Alice bit her lip, drawing my attention to them. Her eyes were sad.

"Yes, Bella, I am. Please, don't make this difficult. If I tell you, I'll be putting my entire family in danger."

Somehow, I believed her.

"Is that why Rosalie told me to stay away from you guys?"

Alice's eyes flashed dangerously. It was actually really hot to see her angry.

"She did _what_?"

As hot as it was to see her angry, however, I didn't want her to be angry with her own sister.

"It's nothing," I said quickly. "I just ran into Jasper this morning – literally, and she went kind of pissy on me. No big deal."

It was, actually, but something told me not to admit that.

Alice looked at me strangely. "You ran into Jasper?" I nodded. "You _touched_ him?" I frowned at that. What was she implying, that I hurt him? I nodded slowly anyway, gesturing for her to get on with it. Alice looked floored. "Um, what did he…say?" Huh? What did that matter?

"Er, nothing. Just told me his name. And… you know, Rosalie's."

Alice seemed really surprised about that, for some reason. What, did she expect Jasper to attack me or something?

"Something," Alice muttered, scratching her head. Did I say that out loud? I was pretty sure that I hadn't, although I was planning to. "And Rosalie, she told you to stay away from me?"

I shook my head slowly, more confused by the minute. "From your family."

Alice clenched her jaw for a moment, then blew out a breath. The tardy bell rang, but we both ignored it. This was more important.

Finally, she closed her eyes and her shoulders slumped, defeated. Something in me ached from seeing her this way. I had a bizarre urge to wrap my arms around her tiny frame and comfort her, but it was stupid, and wrong, because I didn't even know her and she had saved my life but was refusing to tell me how she able to do it. Or how she could hear me all the way across the cafeteria, and I could hear her. Or why Rosalie and Edward hated me so much. Or why they all made feel uneasy except for Alice.

I knew there was a reason I hadn't wanted to go to school today.

Alice opened her eyes and looked into mine. I was captured, lost. I couldn't move if I tried. As if I wanted to.

"I'm sorry, Bella. I really am, please believe me. But Rosalie was right. You need to stay away from us. Goodbye, Bella."

And before I could blink, she was gone. I had no idea where she went; I couldn't see her down either direction of the hall. She just left. Poof. Disappeared. _Ausente_. No longer present. Gone.

I stood there, alone, and tried to figure why it felt like she'd taken my breath, and my heart, with her.

* * *

><p><strong>I didn't like writing this chapter, except for the scene at the waterfall. Mostly just when it got to Bella's first day at school. I think it's because I've read so many Bellice fics that their meeting at school seems like it's always the same thing over and over. I tried to do it a little differently, but I still don't like it.<strong>

**There is a plot-specific reason I gave Bella a bike instead of a truck, and it wasn't an attempt to make her look badass, although that is a happy side effect. For that matter, expect EVERYTHING to have a meaning for the plot, whether it's gonna come back later or contribute to something important, nothing is written by accident. Except mistakes, of course.**

**Oh, and if it seems like Bella isn't going through the usual coping-with-trauma process that she should be going through because of the thing with Maggie, that's because she's not. I think someone mentioned in a review that she would probably be anxious, having flashbacks and the like, but I've already planned it this way. She's trying to forget it ever happened. Her nightmares and the moments immediately after she wakes up from them are the only overt indicators that she's still dealing with it; other signs are more subtle, because Bella herself doesn't see them – she tries really hard to be strong and not think about it. Trust me, her avoidance tactic will come back to bite her in the ass. Hard.**

**Updates are slow because I'm a full time college student (18 units) and I do a bunch of other crap, too. I would apologize, but I'm not sorry. I just thought I'd let you know in case you happened to be wondering. But hey, I make up for it with long chapters!**


	4. A Single Bound

_**Chapter Three: A Single Bound**_

Alice kept her thoughts clear of everything. No visions came to her, no emotion, and certainly no fear. All that mattered was where to draw the next line.

In the crook of one arm was a sketchbook. In her free hand, she held a simple pencil that had a tip riddled with teeth marks – her favorite way of sharpening the thing was to nip at it. Her bare legs were wrapped around her favorite perch, a jagged rock that was hanging over a peaceful clearing next to a waterfall. Her feet were hooked together, preventing gravity from dragging her into the clearing. The cool air of late autumn played over her naked breasts, causing the nipples to tighten in protest, areolas pebbling. She had always been fascinated by the reactions of her cold, dead body to temperatures that hadn't bothered her since before she could remember. Luckily, she was incapable of getting what humans called a head rush.

As Alice looked out into the clearing from this new perspective – upside down – she saw in her mind's eye the scene that had been been plaguing her since she had seen it in a vision. Mostly. Because in the vision, Alice hadn't been there to save the innocent human from being torn to shreds by the bear she had unwittingly startled. Oddly, the human had put up one hell of a fight before being thoroughly mangled. She hadn't screamed or tried to run away, she'd simply held her ground and tried – and failed – to survive.

Alice had been utterly incapable of allowing that vision to come true.

She released a desolate sigh as she formed the outline of Bella's crouched legs, the fighting stance of a champion kickboxer ready to die (never mind that Bella was probably the clumsiest human Alice had ever seen). The worst part of the vision was the detail, which was just as powerful and intense as it had been when Alice had had her first vision of the girl. She had been all but able to swim in the pool of blood that Bella's extensive wounds had shed.

Alice shuddered at the memory and tried to recall instead how fiercely beautiful the girl was when she was determined to face death and win. A small smile tugged at her lips as her pencil slowly stroked the girl's beautiful hair around her breathtaking face.

Unfortunately, she was interrupted by a vision. This was not a powerful vision, such as the ones she had been having sporadically since last week, but a normal one that lasted only long enough for her to realize that she would have unwelcome company in a few minutes.

"What the hell are you doing?"

Rosalie's voice was enchanting even by Vampire standards, but right now Alice only found it abrasive and irritating as fuck.

"Avoiding you," drawled Alice. "And everyone else, of course."

Rose snorted and jumped down the cliff to land on a ledge a few feet below Alice. Alice bent her head back to shoot Rosalie the fiercest glare she could muster before returning to her sketch. Unperturbed, Rosalie glanced at Alice's sketch and groaned.

"She's going to destroy us, Little Freak!" Alice scowled. That was _Edward_'s nickname for her, and whenever anyone else used it, it never failed to grate on her nerves. And Rosalie knew that. Then again, Rosalie was rightfully pissed. "You could at least be wearing clothes! Have _some_ decency for once!"

"I'm comfortable." Alice continued drawing, much Rosalie's irritation.

"Alice!" Rose hissed. Alice ignored her.

Rosalie growled and, making a split second decision that Alice could not foresee, climbed up to Alice's level and snatched the sketchbook and pencil.

Alice folded her arms across her chest and stubbornly closed her eyes, shutting out the world. Rosalie let go of the side of the cliff where she had dug her hand into the rock, resuming her position on the ledge. She batted a hand in the air like a cat's paw, catching Alice's hair just hard enough to be annoying.

"What are you, a cat?" Alice popped her eyes open, glaring.

Rosalie hissed and playfully clawed the air. Alice rolled her eyes. Then Rosalie lost her playful grin and sighed.

"Talk to me, Little Freak." Alice chewed her bottom lip but said nothing. "Look, you know that we are upset with you, but that is only because you haven't actually _told_ us anything."

It was true. Everything the family knew about Alice's situation with Bella, they knew because of Edward. Alice, however, had controlled how much Edward knew by keeping certain things in the forefront of her mind, things important and shocking enough to keep Edward from probing deeper and seeing everything.

Sunday evening, the family had returned from a long hunting trip in Canada. They had had an amazing time there, catching a variety of prey they couldn't normally find in Forks. Alice had still been giddy with the happiness of spending time with family, almost completely forgetting about the mysterious Bella Swan's arrival in Forks, when she had a vision of Bella being mauled to death.

The vision was curious for several reasons, not least of all because Bella had died horribly. Another reason was that Alice had never before had contradicting visions like that, where one would show a person living and breathing (and glaring at her bloodthirsty brother) and then, in a vision that would come to fruition much earlier than the first, being killed. Both visions held true no matter how many times she forced her ability to show them to her again. It didn't make sense, and one of them had to be false.

Alice had taken off without telling anyone or even thinking properly about what she doing – or why. All she knew was that she had to save Bella. One of her visions was meant to be defied, and it was clear which one it had to be, because no matter how dangerous it was to reveal herself so openly, Alice could not just sit back and let the girl die.

When Alice had returned, she was met with the dismay of her entire family. Edward had read her mind as she approached the house and by the time she came through the front door everyone knew that she had exposed herself to a human. There was a huge argument in which Alice did not, at first, participate.

Carlisle suggested that they vacate the area, but Jasper thought that might seem even more suspicious. Rosalie thought that 'appearing even more suspicious' was the least of their worries when a human had seen everything that Alice, and therefore the family, could physically do – feats obviously beyond human abilities.

Edward insisted that leaving was the safest thing they could do, both for the family and for Bella. Emmett sided with Edward, but worried about what Bella would do once they were gone. Rosalie concluded that they would have to kill to Bella in order to preserve the secret. Edward reluctantly agreed once Rose mentally explained her fear that Bella would blab to her friends and family, but then pointed out that they still had a treaty with the Quileutes, so they'd have to stage an accident, like a _successful_ bear attack. Carlisle disagreed with the notion of killing Bella, but didn't have an alternative solution.

Esme, out of all of them, was the only one who noticed that Alice hadn't said anything.

"_I'm not leaving,"_ was what Alice had said when Esme asked for her opinion. Her voice had been filled with a frightening calm none of them had ever heard from the joyful, easily excitable pixie. _"And if any of you try to kill Bella, I _will _kill you."_

Alice hadn't particularly wanted to stick around once it dawned on everyone that she had just threatened to kill them all – her _family_. Never, in any of the years that Alice had been a Cullen, had she ever disagreed with them so vehemently as to be willing to kill any of them. And not one of them, not even Alice, understood why she had reacted so violently to the family discussion. So she ran, only returning in the morning for a change of clothes and a car to drive to school, easily avoiding family by utilizing her ability. At school, she had not expected to avoid any of her siblings, but neither could they hold a meaningful conversation that could possibly descend to violence in a school full of vulnerable human teens. The only reason Alice had shown up at all was to make sure that Edward didn't kill Bella after all.

And now she was here, where Rosalie, the only other one in the family who knew where the damn waterfall was, had hunted her down. Hanging upside down didn't make the blonde's glare any less intimidating.

"I haven't told you anything…because I don't understand anything." Alice finally admitted, ashamed. She refused to look at Rosalie. Her eyes locked on her sketchbook, the unfinished portrait of Bella the only thing she could stand to see. "I don't know why I said what I did, and I don't know why _she_ matters so much, Rosie."

There was a long, silent pause punctuated only by the roar of the waterfall raging along a few feet away from them. Alice slowly moved her gaze from the sketch to meet Rosalie's surprisingly soft gaze.

"I don't like her," Rosalie started. Alice took a breath to interrupt, but in a flash Rosalie covered her mouth with a soft, pale hand. "Let me finish, dammit." Alice huffed but nodded and Rosalie pulled her hand away. "Like I said, I don't like her. If the Volturi ever find out what you did, we are all dead, and every second that girl lives is another second she could say just the wrong thing to the wrong people who can spread the word far enough to reach the ears of any other Vampire, who will definitely report us to gain favor."

Alice opened her mouth to speak again, but Rosalie cut her off quickly.

"_But_," she emphasized the word with a pat to Alice's cheek, "you care about her. Edward and Jasper both said that you were…beyond pissed, beyond outraged, while you were listening to us talking about what we were going to do about the…situation. Jasper said that we were lucky you didn't actually attack us. Don't!" She snapped when Alice tried to apologize. "Because I think I understand why. That _girl_ was weak, and vulnerable, and you felt like you had to protect her, and now that you have saved her, you feel like it is your responsibility to keep her safe. Like she is your child. Your instincts told you it was the right thing to protect her. It makes sense, Alice, and none of us blame you for it. We'll even leave her alone, and stay in Forks to help you protect her if that is what you truly want."

Alice cocked her head to the side, baffled. That wasn't what she was feeling at all. Yes, Alice felt an undeniably powerful urge to protect Bella, but not as if she were a weak and vulnerable child. No, it was more like Bella was a wounded predator who needed some time to get back on her feet and Alice felt the obligation to take on the role as her protector until Bella could fend for herself. This was one of the things Alice had been determined to hide from Edward. She didn't want him, or any of them, knowing that she strongly suspected that Bella was, or could be, far more than human. She didn't want the family to attack Bella because they thought she was a threat – which, until Alice knew _what_ Bella was, if not human, she could very well be extremely dangerous to them.

Still, incorrect assumptions or not, Rosalie was giving her an out. Alice could end the conflict with her family by accepting Rose's explanation as the supposed truth. Rose's soft heart when it came to children and maternal feelings would ensure that the blonde would be on Alice's side when it came to protecting Bella. With her, the rest of the family could be convinced. Yes, Alice could see a non-powerful vision of it already. The Cullens would stay in Forks, trying to keep distant from the humans like always – especially Bella – and do everything in their power to make sure that Bella would not put them or herself in any further danger.

Alice hated to lie about something so crucial to her family's future; it went directly against everything she knew. Nevertheless, it was necessary. If she told Rose that she was wrong, Alice would lose her support, and she wouldn't be able to control what came afterwards – Bella's death, the Cullens leaving Forks – all manner of horrible possibilities.

Alice sighed heavily, stretching her arms below her head. "Maybe you're right," she told Rosalie glumly. "It's just…humans are so _breakable_, you know?" Rosalie nodded sympathetically, and Alice felt her heart twinge with guilt. "I guess I just hate to see the life I saved wasted when…when she could do _so_ much. I couldn't bear it." She sniffed convincingly, wishing she was capable of tears.

Rosalie pulled gently on Alice's outrstretched arms. Obligingly, Alice unlocked her legs and twirled gracefully through the air to stand beside Rose, who pulled her into a tight embrace. Alice mentally begged her sister for forgiveness.

"By the way," said Rosalie, pulling away and raising her eyebrows at Alice, "why were you hanging upside down from a rock naked?"

If Alice could have blushed, she would have.

**Ж**

The next morning, on the way to high school for the umpteenth time in her immortal life, Alice sat rigidly in the backseat of Edward's precious silver Volvo and did her best to not appear so tense. If Jasper's concerned glances were any indication, it wasn't working. The only reason she had agreed to ride with all of her siblings in the Volvo was to make up for her recent behavior towards them. It was her proximity to Edward that made things so difficult; it was almost impossible to mask her thoughts. As it was, Edward was refraining from tearing off Alice's head so she would stop singing "The Song That Never Ends."

_Some people starting singing it, not knowing what it was…_

In the back of her mind, barely making their presence known even to Alice, were the thoughts that would never end.

Edward had not wanted to believe that Bella's blood would tempt him so strongly, but was willing to take a sabbatical from Forks in order avoid the entire situation. Carlisle convinced him that leaving the family for so long was a little extreme. Granted, a year and a half was not very long for Vampires who looked forward to eternity. However, being "vegetarians" made the bonds between the seven Cullens much stronger than those in a "carnivorous" coven or even a human family. Emmett and Rosalie, who sometimes left the family for a few years at a time, always came back relatively quickly because it was difficult for them to stay away. Edward leaving, Carlisle reasoned, would add unnecessary strain on everyone.

Besides, Alice's vision had proven that Edward would be able to control himself. And he had, yesterday, but that didn't stop Alice from worrying that he would slip in the future.

Despite the assurances of her visions, Alice felt an almost overwhelming hostility towards her brother. Jasper had felt it and confronted Alice before they had left for school that morning and Alice tried to pass it off as Edward being his usual self that had made her so angry. In reality, Alice dreaded the period directly following lunch, when Edward would once again have to battle his demons. Although she had tried to force a vision regarding the outcome of the class, Alice had yet to see anything.

In addition to refraining from tearing her dearest and closest sibling limb from limb, Alice was stressing about being able to avoid Bella. She was almost one hundred percent positive that doing so would be impossible, and not just because Bella probably wanted to tear Alice a new one for being so mysterious. Alice felt a terrifying pull to talk to the girl, get to know her, try to understand why she seemed so different and why she had made such a dramatic impact on her close-knit family. Mostly, Alice just desired to spend time with her – more than she had ever wanted to do anything else before, except perhaps shopping. Considering the agreement she had come to with the rest of her family, this was Bad News that deserved to be capitalized.

And it was difficult to think these things without consciously _thinking_ them at the forefront of her mind where Edward could hear.

_This is the song that never ends…_

"Stop that!" Edward hissed as he pulled into the high school student parking lot.

Alice couldn't help but giggle. _Yes, it goes on and on, my friends…_

Edward violently tore out of the Volvo just gently enough not to rip the door off its hinges or send the car barreling through every other vehicle in the lot. Everyone else followed much more calmly. Edward stood leaning against his now closed door, glaring murder at a tree.

Rosalie snorted.

"Who shoved a steel rod up his ass?" said Emmett, grinning.

Alice raised a happily guilty hand. Even Jasper chuckled, and Edward's lips twitched.

"Sorry, Edward," said Alice, not sorry at all. "It's been stuck in my head since last night."

Jasper frowned. "What has?"

Alice obligingly began singing out loud. The other Cullens' groans were loud enough to carry across the parking lot.

**Ж**

If there was just _one thing_ that Alice hated about the lifestyle she and her family had chosen, it was going to school – over and over. And over.

Most of the time, Alice didn't truly mind. Human teenagers were sometimes delightfully unpredictable – interspersed with moments of dreadful predictability – and Alice often enjoyed passing her time at school watching her visions. It gave her the appearance of a spaced-out zombie for most of the school day, but since she and Jasper no longer spent all of their time together, she needed some form of entertainment to preserve her sanity.

Today, Alice couldn't keep her mind clear of thoughts about Bella.

Be that as it may, some habits die hard, especially for Vampires, and Alice found herself having numerous visions despite her preoccupation – all about Bella. It would have been frustrating if it weren't so damn intriguing. None of her visions were more powerful than usual, so Alice had a hard time pinning down exactly what they contained. They were half-formed and blurry. Alice suspected that it had to do with the agreement she had made with her family to avoid Bella – warring with Bella's attempts to find a way to corner Alice.

Alice's first four class periods were shared with at least one sibling – it was during fifth period, an hour or so before lunch, that Alice decided to throw caution to the winds.

Her blurry visions told her where Bella was – English – and since the halls were empty Alice used Vampire speed to get the classroom in record time. Alice walked in and studiously avoided Bella's intense stare, making her way to the teacher. Mrs. Trenton was sitting at her desk grading papers while her students filled out a lame worksheet on something Alice didn't bother identifying. Gleefully, Alice charmed the teacher into releasing Bella for the rest of the period.

She expected Bella to be somewhat upset because of Alice's skillful manipulations, but the girl easily played along with Alice's ploy and packed up her things with scarcely a word to either Alice or Mrs. Trenton. Bella led the way out of the room, the vaguely curious gazes of her sleepy classmates (were human teenagers _always_ sleepy? Alice wondered) following them rather disinterestedly until they had gone.

In the hallway, comfortable silence fell between them as they started walking. Alice wasn't sure where they were going and was content to let Bella take the lead. Bella took Alice outside, where it was cold but not raining, and dropped her bag on the ground. She leaned against the railing leading up the doorway of the building and Alice took a seat on the cold concrete steps, unconsciously demonstrating to Bella that even though Alice had greater strength, she was giving the reins of the conversation to the other girl.

They said nothing for several minutes. Alice didn't want to initiate talk because she was afraid of saying far more than she should, and Bella seemed to be gathering her thoughts.

"So," said Bella softly enough to not startle Alice; "I have to stay away from you, but you don't have to stay away from me?"

Alice found herself grinning without realizing that she had moved the muscles necessary to do so. Bella appeared amused.

"Something along those lines, yes."

Bella chuckled quietly, the sound of it warming Alice to the core. At the strange sensation, Alice looked up at Bella and frowned.

"Aren't you cold?" she asked her. Bella, who was wearing ripped stonewashed jeans and a horribly thin long-sleeved T-shirt, simply shook her head. She moved to sit next to Alice, their knees almost brushing as she got situated. Alice echoed Bella's movement, shaking her head, sure that she had seen the humans bundled up against the cold today. The feel of the wind playing gently with her hair told her why. "It's a bit windy today," she added.

Bella shrugged. "Doesn't bother me, I guess. And you?"

Alice looked away. Of course the cold didn't bother her. But she was also dressed more warmly. She decided to change the subject.

"My siblings would be upset if they saw me here with you."

"Upset" was putting it mildly, but Bella didn't need to know that.

"I don't want to get you into trouble with your family."

Alice stared at Bella for a moment, uncomprehending. "I won't be, as long as they don't know."

Bella smirked. "Maybe. But if your siblings really hate me that much, maybe it would be best if you _did_ avoid me."

Alice narrowed her eyes. This wasn't going at all like she had thought it would. She had expected Bella to immediately demand truthful answers, not advise Alice to leave.

"I can't," Alice blurted without thinking. Bella raised her eyebrows in surprise. Alice sealed her mouth shut before she said something even more stupid.

"Okay," Bella drawled slowly. "Then maybe you can help me with something."

"What?"

"See, I met this amazing girl. She's so amazing, she can kill a gigantic, rabid bear with her bare hands – no pun intended. Her skin is ice cold, and she has really, _really_ good hearing. Her eyes change color, and in the sunlight, her skin sparkles like diamonds. Are you following?"

Alice was holding her breath, trying to keep from – from what? Screaming? Running? She managed to jerk her head a little, her eyes looking everywhere but at Bella.

Bella continued, "She saved me. And since then, I can't stop thinking about her. But she is so worried about keeping her secret and protecting her family from exposure that she won't even let me thank her for what she did that day." Alice's eyes shot up, locking onto Bella's and staying there. Bella had gorgeous eyes, Alice suddenly noticed. Deep, deep brown with flecks of gold, forest green, and burgundy, reflecting a multitude of emotions Alice could not decipher. "Thank you," said Bella quietly, in case Alice had not gotten the point.

Alice was speechless. She was sure her siblings would be laughing at that – Alice was _always_ knew what to say. But not this time. Bella had stolen the breath from her body and she couldn't muster the strength or the courage to get it back.

"You don't have to explain anything," said Bella when Alice remained silent. "You don't have to feel like you owe me an explanation. I'm the one who owes you my life." Alice managed to get her lips moving at that, but she still couldn't summon the voice to transmit her thoughts through them. "I just wanted to let you know that." Bella was talking faster now, more passionately, like she wanted to be absolutely sure that Alice understood. "I wanted you to know that if you ever need anything, I will do whatever I can to help you. …_Which might be more than you think_."

The last part was said so quietly that if Alice had been human she wouldn't have heard her. In fact, Alice was sure that Bella hadn't meant to say it at all, but Alice couldn't ignore that she had.

"What do you mean?" Alice managed to whisper. Her eyes were still locked on Bella's and she wondered, briefly, what Bella saw there.

"I don't _feel_ the cold," Bella admitted after hesitating. It was a roundabout way of acknowledging all the little things that seemed to point to her being more than human, Alice realized.

"I don't know why," said Alice honestly, telling Bella without words that she was not Vampire, or Werewolf, or anything else Alice had ever heard of. Bella accepted her answer with a short nod, and they were silent for a few more moments. Alice was painfully aware that the bell was going to ring soon. For once, she wished it wouldn't.

"You're welcome," said Alice suddenly. Bella bit her lip shyly; it was adorable, and Alice smiled a little. "I couldn't let anything happen to you when I knew I could stop it."

Bella returned her smile and they spent the remaining few minutes before lunch sitting quietly and comfortably in each other's company. Although no questions had been answered, Alice's thoughts had finally come to a calm standstill, and she felt…peaceful.

**Ж**

The rest of the week passed rather painfully. Alice didn't make another attempt to contact Bella, and Bella likewise kept her distance.

Edward gained a bit more control over his bloodthirst around Bella, but they hadn't quite given up their daily glaring contests. Bella's attempts to verbally confront Edward on the matter proved fruitless, as Edward could not take a breath in Bella's presence with which to respond.

Rosalie had P.E. with Bella right after the battleground that was sixth period. Although Rosalie, like her siblings, never participated in the class, she enjoyed staring down her nose at Bella, who, though intimidated, pretended she didn't exist. Rosalie had great fun telling stories at home about Bella's clumsy antics during P.E., which was a source of endless amusement for both her and Emmett. Emmett milked every single one of Bella's awkward and embarrassing moments for all they were worth, and although he didn't share Rosalie's view that Bella was better off dead than alive, Emmett was nothing if not loyal to his mate. Despite the humiliation, Bella continued to hold her head high; while this made Rosalie outwardly scoff and seethe, Jasper had confided in Alice that Rose was actually a bit impressed by Bella.

For his part, Jasper avoided Bella as fervently as he avoided every other human being. Alice suspected that his ability to control himself around Bella better than any other human unsettled him. Not that he was alone in this: Rosalie and Emmett also claimed that they didn't have any particular desire to feed from Bella – despite her amazing scent. Only Edward seemed affected in that way, and Carlisle had already concluded that Bella was his Singer. While the information certainly set Bella apart from the other human teenagers at the school, no one besides Alice seemed to suspect that Bella was anything other than completely human.

Outside of school, the wolves from the Quileute reservation were getting restless, and it was putting all of the Cullens more on edge than usual. The pack already equaled their coven in number. At night, they patrolled their boundaries along the outermost edges, provoking Emmett, Rosalie, and Jasper to wander close to the treaty line to make sure they didn't break it. Luckily, the wolves had yet to cross paths with them, for if they had, the wolves would have probably attacked. If there was anything the Cullens hated more than the mutts, it was the puppies that couldn't control themselves.

The Alpha, Sam, had convinced the council of elders in La Push to speak with Carlisle (via Skype) at least once a week for an "evaluation" to determine whether the Vampires were "being good." Even Carlisle thought it was a load of bullshit, but he used the opportunity to try and calm the wolves or "make them heel," as Rosalie put it. Unfortunately, the council saw this as an affront to the dignity of their mutts, adding tension to an already strained agreement.

Given the situation with Bella and the increasing annoyance of the wolves, things at home were rather quiet and tense. Even Emmett was perturbed, aching for a fight. He and Jasper spent a good portion of that weekend sparring. Edward and Rosalie joined them occasionally to relieve some stress, but Rosalie was content tinkering in the garage and Edward composed his music. Alice made an effort to spend some time with each of them, but it was difficult when all she wanted to do was find Bella and be with her.

On Monday, Alice was actually relieved to go to school. At least there, the wolves seemed like less of a problem and she could view Bella from afar. It had rained heavily all through Sunday and the water froze overnight, appearing to give the whole of Forks a glistening, sparkling veneer.

"You seem quiet this morning, Little Freak," said Edward with a crooked smile.

The Cullens were standing around Edward's Volvo and Emmett's Jeep, talking softly. Alice had already had a vision earlier in the car and saw Edward's question as a ploy to distract her so Emmett could attack.

Alice giggled and twirled around her brother, easily avoiding Emmett's arms as he tried to use Edward's distraction to grab at Alice from behind. Jasper was no help, redirecting Alice straight into Edward, who dodged, giving Emmett the opportunity scoop Alice into his arms. She shrieked and kicked out with her legs; Emmett guffawed and held her upside down. Alice squirmed and twisted until she loosened Emmett's grip, then hurriedly (though not too hurriedly, since they were still in full view of humans) clambered gracefully onto his back. Emmett took the defeat in stride, allowing Alice to piggyback on him for the next few minutes.

Mid-laugh, Alice was hit with a vivid vision.

_Alice gasped abruptly as she found herself somewhere else. She was standing at the edge of the parking lot, where she could see down the ice-slicked road and view the entire parking lot at the same time. As she looked over, she saw herself still firmly attached to Emmett's back, eyes glazed over, a half-smile frozen on her face with her lips slightly parted in a laugh. The sight was frankly creepy and she looked away._

_Her siblings gathered around Emmett in concern for the Alice on his back, turning away from the road, where the real action was happening._

_About fifty feet from pulling into the parking lot, a van Alice recognized as belonging to Tyler Crowley hit a slick patch of black ice. Tyler had been driving too fast and hit the ice at a horrible angle, sending the vehicle fishtailing completely out of control. Directly behind him, a sickeningly familiar motorcycle was following behind Tyler's van too closely to avoid him, although it did swerve around the ice. Behind the motorcycle, a monstrous black Silverado hit the ice and began sliding at breakneak spead towards Tyler's van, which had turned so it was skidding sideways._

_The motorcycle was going to get crushed between the two larger vehicles. Helplessly, Alice screamed._

"BELLA!"

Collectively, the Cullens flinched at Alice's plaintive cry, but it wasn't until they heard a deafening cacophony of crunching metal and shattering glass that they understood the problem. Alice launched herself over Emmett's head and sprinted towards the pile-up. If she had a beating heart, it would be trying to escape her ribcage. She barely had the state of mind to run at a human's fastest pace, which wasn't nearly fast enough. Her siblings were hot on her tail, along with several students who had shaken off their shock and wanted to either help or witness the destruction. A buzz of murmuring, screaming, and whispering tried to penetrate her brain, but all Alice could hear was a terrifying roar of sound.

When she got to the scene of the accident, Alice swore she felt an electric shock pass through her, leaving her numb and dead to the world. Bella's bike was thoroughly crushed between the two more massive vehicles, serving as nothing but solder for the van and the truck, both of which continued to slide several feet after the impact.

As soon as they stopped sliding, Alice arrived and the driver of the truck jumped out and stumbled rapidly away from the scene, leaping over the front wheel of the motorcycle, which had been separated from the other half. Following him was the passenger, a girl who sat at Bella's table at lunch. Alice forgot about them quickly, although she had half a mind to kill the driver. Tyler remained in his van; Alice heard her siblings stop running rather abruptly, keeping their distance, and she understood why, even though she could hardly understand how it mattered to them right now: Tyler was bleeding.

What didn't make any sense was that she could not smell Bella's blood.

When Alice came to a stop, she paused and inhaled deeply, nostrils flaring. She caught Bella's scent, but it wasn't in the midst of the twisted metal that remained of her bike. It was on the other side of Tyler's van. Alice was barely aware of moving before she was standing on the other side of the van.

"Bella?"

Bella was standing ten feet away from the van, legs bent slightly, back to Alice, appearing for all the world as though she had just landed from a short jump. Hearing Alice's voice, she straightened up slowly and turned to face her. Her face was pale, almost as pale as a Vampire's. Her beautiful eyes were wide, displaying the bone-numbing shock that Alice was feeling, and she stood stock still, hardly even breathing, as if breathing would shatter her as surely as her bike had been. There wasn't so much as a bruise or light scratch on her fair, unblemished skin.

"Alice," Bella breathed. Just from her tone, Alice gathered that she was terrified, confused, and relieved.

Relieved.

A flood of relief suffused every atom of Alice's being and she lunged forward, wrapping Bella in a tight embrace – an embrace probably too tight to preserve the girl's fragile bones, but Alice didn't care. Neither did Bella, who staggered back a step but held her ground as Alice clung to her, and immediately returned the embrace with strength Alice swore was nearly equal to hers.

"How did I do that, Alice?" Bella murmured into Alice's ear, two lonely tears leaking from her eyes and down to her chin. "How is it even possible? How is it fucking _possible_?"

"I don't know," whispered Alice. "I don't know. I'm so sorry, but I don't know. Bella, I'm just glad that you're okay." Her voice cracked on the last word.

In response, Bella buried her face in Alice's hair and inhaled deeply. Alice imagined that Bella was memorizing her scent. The younger girl was trembling oh so softly in her arms, and it was all Alice could do to keep from promising that Bella would always be safe in them.

* * *

><p><strong>Sorry it took a while. I tried, I really did, but shit happens.<strong>

**To me, it seems like this chapter came across as a little boring, but it's mostly exposition and setting up for the real plot, so I shouldn't expect anything more. Anyway, let me know what you think. Predict. Praise. Laugh. Beg. Question. Criticize. Yell at me if you want. I'll enjoy it. For some reason, I'm in a screaming mood.**


	5. Drifting

**Sorry I'm late. I don't like writing La Push scenes. But I make up for it in length, I think.**

**My thanks to Aidis for encouraging me to write a better summary.**

**Oh, and if you want to see them the way I do, for OCs Margaret Blatch and Doctor Sigma I picture a blond Dita Von Teese and an albino Christopher Eccleston, respectively.**

* * *

><p><em><strong>Chapter Four: Drifting<strong>_

_I was weightless in a black nothingness that surrounded me completely. It was not cold, nor hot. I could feel no wind or water or stone. All was silent._

_If there was anything I hated, it was the silence._

__There was only one sensation to be had in this abyss: pain. My bones were breaking, healing, breaking again, melting, exploding, shards ripping through my fragile flesh, __burning_ _until the pain was so all-consuming I began to believe that this was all I had ever known.__

_The hated silence was filled with my screams._

I gasped, feeling like I was drowning. The pain was crawling right underneath my skin, and I clawed at it desperately, nails driving hard across my shins, my calves, my thighs, up to my stomach, my chest, my arms – everywhere, it was trying to escape, but it couldn't, it wouldn't come _out_ and it was getting worse.

An animal-like whimper rose in my throat and spilled out over my lips.

My hands ripped at my pajama pants and loose T-shirt frantically, digging as if searching for something, rooting out the aching, burning pain but it was skittering away under my fingertips, evading capture, riddling my body with an agony so intense I could no longer hold back the scream that was building in my throat.

"BELLA?"

My door burst open and the light came on, but I barely noticed. Charlie was yelling at me and I shrank away from him but continued to scratch incessantly at my skin. He climbed onto the bed with me and tried to pin my wrists to the mattress, but I was a little too strong for him and I was suffocating and I shrieked and squirmed away until I fell onto the floor on the other side of the bed, writhing.

"BELLA, STOP!"

Giving up all hope of subduing me, Charlie snatched my cell phone from the night stand and dialed with shaking fingers.

My fingers were shaking, too, but it wasn't doing me any good. I screamed again and Charlie looked like he was going to cry. He was talking into the phone and I didn't know how long I was lying there twitching, scratching, gasping, trembling, begging for release, but at last Charlie stopped talking, fairly _sat_ on my stomach, put the phone on speaker and forced me to listen.

It took about twenty minutes, but gradually the shrink Renee had forced me to see in Phoenix coaxed sense into me. The pain ebbed away, the itching faded into nothing but a vague and blurry memory. My panic was replaced by a blissful numbness that made me feel weightless – in a good way. It was as though I had been given a massive dose of morphine. I relaxed under my dad and just let the sensation wash over me for a second until the intensity faded and I felt _normal_ again.

"Thanks, doc," I breathed sincerely. My voice was only slightly damaged and hoarse.

Charlie took my calmness as a sign that it was okay to get up, and he did, allowing me to breathe more freely. He sat on the edge of the bed and, though my legs felt shaky, I gingerly joined him. He turned the phone so we could both see the screen.

"If you ever think you might be on the verge of a relapse, be sure to tell me, Bella," said Doctor Sigma. His pale face was stony with seriousness, but his eyes betrayed his relief that his bizarre distance-therapy thing had worked. His northerner London accent seemed more pronounced than usual – perhaps it was because he was tired. "It could be dangerous to your health to have another episode like this one."

"What caused it?" Charlie asked before I could reply. His face was lined with stress and worry and I instantly felt guilty for putting him through this shit.

Doctor Sigma rubbed a hand over his bare scalp. He was sitting at a table with books all around him – _why _he was up in the middle of the night was beyond me, but his crimson eyes looked worried on the screen. He had told Bella during their first session – when she had rather rudely pointed out that his eyes were red – that he was albino. It wasn't just his starkly pale appearance and interesting eyes (and rather large nose and ears) that set him apart in a crowd, however; Doctor Sigma had incredibly grotesque scars, shining white and even paler than the rest of his skin, covering most of his face and head. He had been caught in a house fire as a child, he had explained to fill the silence when I had refused for the millionth time to speak about anything, and was permanently disfigured as a result.

"I can't be sure, but I believe the discontinuation of our regular sessions caused Bella to recall more vividly the pain she was in during the incident."

My heart gave a fierce, almost painful pound against my chest. I opened my mouth to speak, but Charlie cut me off, "So keep counseling her. Y'know, over the phone. Like this."

"You can't be serious!"

"I don't think Bella will be receptive–"

"You have to do something!"

"I do _not_ need a freaking shrink!"

"Bella, you just had a seizure. I won't let my baby girl go through something like that again and if the doc can stop it–"

"Dad–!"

"Chief Swan, _please_. I have done my best to treat your daughter, but modern medicine simply cannot help her recover from her ordeal. This is a fight she is determined to fight alone, and we have to respect that or we risk hindering her from making any recovery at all."

Stunned, we both just stared at the phone and Doctor Sigma looked inexplicably smug.

"I will agree to checking on Bella's progress once a week, but these will not strictly be _counseling_ sessions, you understand. I believe that simply knowing that there is help available should she need it will be enough to keep any further seizures and panic attacks at bay."

I was still bitter about the whole mess, especially because they kept talking like I wasn't here, but to appease Charlie I didn't argue, and Charlie agreed with Doctor Sigma that it was for the best. They ended the call and Charlie and I both reflexively looked at my alarm clock; it was only two in the goddamn morning. My skin was red and raw where I had been scratching it, I was exhausted, and I just wanted to forget that anything had ever happened.

Charlie hugged me with one arm around my shoulders, which said far more than words ever could about how worried he was, even as he let go quickly to avoid the awkwardness of the contact. We were both so horrible at verbal communication that it made tense silences like these incredibly uncomfortable.

Finally, he just told me to try to get some real sleep before he headed downstairs to watch whatever crap came on TV during the hours no one was actually watching. He put my phone next to the alarm clock and I plugged it back into the charger when he left.

There wasn't much left of my nightwear, I noticed with a certain necessary degree of mortification. My thin white T-shirt was ripped to ruin and my pants hadn't done much better. I tiredly changed into another shirt and sweatpants, wincing as the cloth brushed against my sensitive skin. I was raw and red everywhere that I managed to scratch, and some places were even bleeding slightly. My muscles were sore and aching. I was too tired to worry much about any of that and simply fell bonelessly into bed after flipping off the light.

Sleep came quickly, but peace remained elusive. Once again, I dreamed that I was Margaret Blatch. When I woke, I was hit by a wave of irritation. Enraged at my own wayward dreams and the alarm clock that had interrupted my sleep, I grasped the clock in both hands and hurled it at the far wall. The cord was ripped brutally from its electrical socket and the entire thing shattered into little pieces against the wall.

The wall appeared greatly perturbed by the assault; there was a rectangular hole in the plaster and I could see the wooden beams to either side of it. Hell, there was a tiny chip in the freakin' wall through which I could see a hint of gloomy gray from outside.

When I was more fully awake, I glared at the pieces of the clock, groaned, and fell back into bed.

There was a noise like a thundering stampede coming up the stairs and I threw an arm over my face for good measure. The door opened, and there was a long pause.

"Sonny and Cher?"

Well, at least someone was amused.

I removed my arm and peered up at Charlie who was staring at the mess on my floor. I shrugged. "I can use my phone."

"Ookay. Well, I'm off to work." I hadn't noticed that he was in uniform. His eyes were bloodshot and tired and I felt the guilt compressing me into a little ball. "So I'll see you later, kiddo. You don't have to go to school today if you don't want to."

Really? Well, that would be nice, but…

I sighed. "There's nothing else to do."

Charlie coughed. "Right. Well. I'm off, then. Have a good…day." He eyed the remains of my alarm clock. There was really nothing left of the thing. Then his eyes flickered to the teeny tiny hole in the wall and shared a look of consternation with me; silently, I promised to do something about it while he was at work.

"You too, Dad." I said out loud.

Throwing one last look at the scattered pieces, Charlie nodded, acknowledging both the goodbye and the promise to fix the wall. He turned and left.

I turned to the ceiling and sighed again, admiring a particularly interesting stipple pattern that took the shape of a mermaid.

It was Wednesday. Officially my least favorite day of the week. Why, I wasn't sure, but I suspected that the answer lay somewhere on the floor. I felt no inclination to find it.

**Ж**

I had meant it when I told Alice that I didn't need an explanation for what she did and kept doing. I had not even planned on seeing the gorgeous young woman that day, positive that she would do everything in her power to avoid me. While I had been confused beyond description about every damn thing and impatient to understand, I was willing to listen to Rosalie and stay away – for a while, at least, as I dealt with my own shit. Alice completely blindsided me by taking me out of class behind her siblings' backs – I hadn't known what the right thing to say was until I started saying it. Oddly, as terrifying as it was to admit how I thought of her, I felt relieved. Like everything that _needed_ to be out and in the open between us was no longer being hidden.

But in reality, that wasn't true. I didn't know what she was, neither of us knew what I was, and there was a whole host of other unspoken things between us that were crawling under my skin. Thankfully, these things didn't make me itch, and the scratches that remained from that horrible night were gone by the time I got dressed for school Wednesday morning. And later that day, I found some scrap wood that had been used for a failed building project of Charlie's in the shed out back. I scrounged up some nails and a hammer and covered the little hole in my bedroom wall. Staring at the juxtaposed board as I lay in bed gave me a freaking headache because it reminded me of too many things I couldn't hope to understand.

So for the rest of the week, I tried to distract myself from these things doing anything and everything unrelated to them. I got a pathetic weekend job at the lonely little bookstore next to the pizza place, which was also hiring, but I liked books more than I liked pizza and I didn't actually need the paltry money I was able to earn at the store anyway. I tried looking for books about supernatural creatures, myths, legends, superstitions, and that sort of thing, but it seemed like looking for something specific made everything useful in the store magically disappear, so I gave up - not that I had tried very hard to start.

After school, I hung with Ben or Ange or both, except for that one time Jessica and Mike managed to intrude on our company at the pizza joint – I had escaped to the arcade room with as many quarters as I could fit into one fist until they were gone. Jessica had taken to giving me the cold shoulder at school, positive that I was trying to steal Mike away from her. (Never mind that I couldn't care less about him or that he smelled overwhelmingly like old sweat and extra-greasy fried chicken from all the way across the English classroom.) Ange had moved the three us four tables over from Mike, Eric, and Jessica, hoping that isolation would encourage Jessica to straighten up.

I could not understand Angela's faith in the ditz and took to avoiding Jessica so she wouldn't ever have a chance to prove Ange right. That didn't stop her from being obnoxiously loud, stage-whispering shit behind our backs, but Ben and Ange easily ignored the jibes – or maybe they really couldn't hear her at all, which seemed more probable of late. Mike and Eric had tried individually to sit at our new table, but Jessica's bitching made them heel. Ben, at least, seemed to be of the same mind as me about the whole thing, but he missed hanging out with Eric all the time and was thoroughly whipped so I got no help from there.

Saturday night, I was invited to a bonfire on the beach in La Push. I had been there before many times when I was still visiting Charlie as a little kid, but I couldn't remember anything significant about it. As soon as I got off work, Ben picked me up in his truck, Angela whispering conspiratorially with him from the passenger seat to annoy the living crap out of me, and we hit the beach.

Usually, when I thought of a beach, I pictured bikinis, sun-bathers, volleyball, hot dudes and chicks, and bright sunny weather. La Push had long-sleeved rashguards and boardshorts, deathly pale teens, a tiny bonfire with rotting logs gathered around it, seriously cold dudes and chicks, and a slate gray sky.

Angela was psyched about surfing and she joined Eric and a few others on the admittedly impressive waves until it got dark. Ben seemed about as enthusiastic about the sport as I was, and since I could barely walk across a flat surface, I was doubtful about my ability to keep my balance on water. Despite my reluctance to join the fun, I liked watching them, and I enjoyed being so close to the ocean. Mike tried to hold his own but succumbed to the cold, gathering layers of clothes around himself and huddling against the breeze close to the fire. Once he recovered, he tried to impress me with burning driftwood, which was actually pretty cool although it didn't win him any points in my book. Jessica cheered on Mike and then offered to help warm him up. I gagged.

There were a few others from school there as well, but I sat with Ben on the tailgate of his truck and we chatted inanely about random things, occasionally pausing to yell at the surfers. I was wearing a T-shirt and skinny jeans and every now and then I caught Ben looking at my bare arms with an incredulous expression; I cursed myself for forgetting to wear a jacket. Whether or not I needed it, and no matter why I might not need it, appearing without a jacket when it was clearly cold to the others was…reckless, if I had to describe it. Especially when Tyler Crowley offered to lend me his hideous parka.

When Angela returned from her expedition, her lips were tinged with blue and she was shivering violently. Ben immediately went into mother-hen mode and I surreptitiously backed away to give them some privacy.

Mike brought out the booze – which was really just crappy beer – and although I refused to drink the shit, everyone else's increasingly cheerful spirits kept me feeling lighter than usual. Ben reluctantly gave Ange the rest of his can when it was nearly empty, being mine and Angela's driver. Obnoxious teenagers doing stupider and stupider things wasn't normally my scene, but Ben's running stone-cold sober commentary kept me entertained. I was soon distracted from the others by the arrival of Quileute boys from the reservation.

There were around a dozen of them, and they brought better beer with them, but something about these boys gave me the chills. Half of them were eerily similar in appearance, with bare washboard abs toned russet-gold, tall statures, and dark short-cropped hair. They appeared as unaffected by the cold as I was. Kids from Forks High were a bit stunned to see the Quileutes, but the natives were happily welcomed to the party and soon everyone was sitting around the fire sharing stories as the last rays of the sun disappeared over the horizon.

One of the boys, thankfully not one of the weird ones, knew me.

"Bella," he said, flashing a brilliant smile, "don't you remember me?"

As I gazed at him for a moment I realized that I did actually recognize him. He was a lot taller and had much longer hair – beautiful hair – but it was definitely Jacob Black, Charlie's best friend's son. We used to hang out together back when I was still visiting Forks every summer. Even though Jake was younger than me, he had still been pretty fun to spend time with. I wondered how much he had changed.

"Jacob?" I ventured just to make sure.

He laughed and there was a bit of nervousness somewhere in there; I hoped to God he didn't have a stupid crush on me. Mike, Eric, and Tyler were bad enough.

"Yeah," he said. "How's the Hurricane?" I tilted my head to the side. "I was the one who fixed it up. Sorry I couldn't get the truck, too. I tried, but, you know…" His voice trailed off with a sheepish grin and he shrugged.

Ben nudged my shoulder and I tried to mask my flinch by oh-so-casually leaning back on my hands. He was sitting next to me with an arm wrapped around Angela's shoulders.

"You know him?"

"Sure," I said. "His dad's good friends with my dad, so I knew him and his sister from way back."

"We were best friends," said Jake proudly, beaming at me with his entire face. I tried not to roll my eyes and offered a half-smile in return.

"The bike's great, by the way," I said, remembering what he'd said before Ben had interrupted. "Thanks."

"Anytime!"

"Jacob," warned a baritone voice from a barrel-chested young man. He was one of the ones that looked the same as five of the others, and I noticed now that he smelled like raw, bloody meat and gravy. The others smelled similar but each slightly different; one had a distinctly hashbrown-like odor and I was somehow certain that this wasn't because he'd had hashbrowns for dinner; his breath reeked of garlic.

The man, who was probably the oldest among us here and likely responsible for the good brew, wasn't looking at Jake, he was glaring at me. I was so sick of getting glared at for no damn reason, I immediately felt threatened and began to deploy the death ray I customarily shared with the psychotic Edwardstein Freakazoid Cullen. Alice's so-called brother.

Great, now I was thinking about her again. I was trying so hard not to do that, too. It was distracting. Like the way I would unconsciously sneak glances at her during school when we were supposed to be completely avoiding each other but I couldn't bring myself to ignore her existence. How her jet black hair was perfectly arranged into a chaos that reflected the turmoil in her soft amber eyes. Or how perfectly her ridiculously expensive designer jeans hugged her hips just right.

…Dammit.

Meanwhile, Jake was frowning at the man who had spoken.

"…she's harmless, Sam."

Sam snorted crudely with disbelief. The Forks teens went still and silent, anticipating some kind of confrontation and having no idea what to do about it, if anything.

"What the hell is going on?"

"Nothing," replied Jake quickly, still shooting Sam discomfited glares. "Sam just thinks he knows better than the rest of us."

The other bare-chested boys shifted angrily in their seats, muttering, and one of them stood, his entire body shaking.

"You have _no_ idea, Black!" The boy hissed at him. "You have _no_idea!"

Sam stood with him and laid a calming hand on a heaving shoulder.

"Easy, Paul. Control your temper. He will soon understand."

Paul stopped trembling, but turned to face me. My spine stiffened automatically.

"Mess with any of us, Hunter, and you'll regret it!"

"Paul!" Sam snapped. "Shut your _trap_!"

Paul's mouth, open to hurl some more nonsense at me, instantly closed, lips pressed tightly together. His eyes smoldered in hatred, gleaming at me in the light of the fire.

I smirked at him and he lifted a corner of his upper lip to snarl.

Fuck, this was bizarre.

Ben was tense beside me as if prepared to leap to my defense if this somehow broke out into a physical fight. Jessica was staring wide-eyed between Paul and Sam and myself and Jake, utterly unable to comprehend the situation. I didn't blame her for that. Next to her, Mike was gaping. Likewise, Eric and Tyler and seemed utterly bewildered. The other students I knew from school were acting the same way. Weirdly, Angela was calmest out of all of us, snuggled into Ben's side and watching with mild interest. The other boys in Sam's gang were visibly restraining themselves from doing or saying anything, and the more normal-looking natives looked like they wanted to be anywhere but on the beach.

One of the boys, though, couldn't restrain himself any longer. He stood to join Paul and folded his arms across his massive chest.

"Paul's right, though, Sam," he said calmly. "She's not included in the treaty."

"She doesn't need to be, she's not a leech," said another boy, surprisingly in my defense. Jake got to his feet at that moment, so I did as well, causing the La Push boys to flinch.

"So what?" Another boy spoke up.

"Yeah, what if she decides–"

"Enough!" Sam barked. Amazingly, they stopped. "You forget our company." He slowly scanned the crowd with his gaze, pointedly focusing on the Forks kids and the other native boys. "This is not the time or the place to discuss this. Leave."

The boys didn't move. Paul still hadn't said another word, though he looked like he wanted to.

"_Now_." The boys scrambled to their feet.

"Stay off our land, Hunter!" One of the boys yelled over his shoulder as they left.

"You don't belong here, bitch!"

Though hopelessly confused, I was hardly going to just stand there and take that.

"Fuck off, you damn pussies!" I retorted as they retreated from the beach. They were out of sight a second later, but I heard a few furious growls that made me chuckle. Ben and Ange laughed a little as well, though they stopped quickly when Sam glared at them.

The gang leader faced me. His posture was tightly controlled, but I could see how angry he was. Jake stepped a little closer to me.

"That was uncalled for," said Jake.

"You should have listened to me. You shouldn't have followed us here."

"Why?"

Sam didn't seem to have an answer he was willing to share in front of witnesses, so he merely grunted and said to me, "You'll be walking a thin line if you return here."

I groaned in frustration and threw my hands in the air.

"_Why_? What is it with this place and fucking obscure mysteries? For once I just wish someone would be fucking _straight_ with me!"

Sam's eyes widened a little.

"You don't even _know_?"

"Know _what_?"

He frowned thoughtfully.

"That…changes things. And it might explain why you are not hiding."

"I'm not hiding anything!"

Which was total bullshit, but there was a whole lot that wasn't any of this guy's damn business. I knew I should have worn a freaking jacket.

"Leave her alone, Sam."

Ben and Angela stood up once Jake said this, standing beside me and staring down the massive young man. Angela seemed interested only a passive level, but Ben was looking to prevent a fight. Everyone else was still too stunned to react to anything at all.

Sam's expression was unfathomable, but he turned and left the beach without another word. I didn't take my eyes off him until he left my sight.

The party tentatively resumed, but once the teens from Forks jumped on the remaining natives for answers to what had happened, the other russet-skinned boys departed as well and the festivities seemed to die a bit after that. Angela reached out to touch my arm, perhaps to offer me some comfort or some shit like that, but I turned away from her and told Jake to start walking. I waved to Ben and Ange as Jake led me away from the bonfire. We didn't go too far, keeping the fire within sight. I stared out into the dark, rolling waters of the ocean, letting it calm me.

"Start talking." My tone was curt, but I didn't have time to sweeten up my old friend for an explanation I deserved to have without coercion involved. I certainly didn't need to give him a reason to think I liked him as anything more than a friend.

Jake grimaced. "Bella, don't listen to Sam, he's just–"

"Leading a gang of idiots who all but threatened my life?"

He looked stricken.

"They didn't–"

"They wanted to."

Jake did not deny it.

"Quil and Embry were my friends," he started with bitterness. "And he took them. Changed them." He paused. "I don't know," he muttered finally.

I looked away from the ocean and raised my eyebrows to encourage him to continue. Jake sighed.

"Sam thinks he's in charge. Like vigilante police. Pretending he knows better than anyone else, yelling at people for littering, beating them up for stealing, taking the law into his own hands. They all believe in the old Quileute legends. They're like bedtime stories, but Sam swears they're true, and for some reason the Council lets him get away with all of his shit because of it."

Jake looked away from me and stared off into the distance roughly in the direction of the fire.

"He's taking over everything, and no one is standing up to him."

I allowed him a moment of melancholy silence before prompting softly, "What are the legends?"

Jake bit his lip. "I'm not really allowed to tell you, since you're an outsider, you know?"

I gave him a half-smile before looking all around us, using my sense of smell and hearing to confirm that we were alone.

"I won't tell if you won't."

He sighed. "All right. They're pretty stupid, though."

"Tell me."

"According to legend, a rival tribe attacked us a long time ago. But these people, they weren't normal. They were stronger and faster than humans and their skin was cold and hard as rock; they were called the Cold Ones," his voice dropped dramatically. I rolled my eyes at him and he sobered. "The Quileute warriors used wolf-skins to transform into giant wolves that could kill the Cold Ones. It's said that our people today are descended from them – from _Werewolves_."

Jake did his dramatic voice again, then laughed.

"Supposedly, Sam is one of these descendants. I don't believe it, though."

"Why did they call me a Hunter? What is that?"

Jake shook his head. "I don't know. They're not part of any of the legends I know. But here's the interesting part – years after the wolf-warriors killed the Cold Ones, more of them came back. These were different, though. The first Cold Ones were like Vampires or something–" he mimed fangs sucking in his whole bottom lip and part of his chin, striking a creepy pose; "_I __vant __to __zuck y__our __blood_," he mimicked.

I snorted at the lame impression. "Really?" I gave him a _look_. He grinned, unashamed. "So what made these Cold Ones different?"

"These Cold Ones didn't feed from humans, they fed from animals." I quirked a brow in interest and he shrugged. "But they were still the enemy. Thing was, no one had the ability to transform into a wolf anymore. When the Cold Ones came again, the closest blood descendants of the original Alpha wolf transformed for the first time and didn't know what to do. They fought the Cold Ones, but then the leader of their coven called a truce. So the Werewolves made a treaty with the Vampires."

"Sounds like a really bad remake of Underworld. Or the Cat and the Fiddle."

Jake chuckled, but then shook his head. "That's not even the worst part of it." I waved impatiently for him to continue. "Sam and his – _friends_," he spat, "have thought ever since they moved to Forks, or since they 'came back,'" he used air quotes, "that the _Cullens_ are the same Cold Ones that we made a treaty with in the legends. Can you believe it? The _Cullens_ of all people. They're not even allowed on our land because of it. Because of Sam."

The bottom of my stomach dropped out from under me and suddenly I couldn't breathe.

Vampire. My savior was an effing _Vampire_.

Jake cleared his throat.

"Um, are you okay?"

I blinked at him, uncomprehending, then shook my head to clear it.

"Yeah," I said shakily, unconvincingly. I coughed and tried again. "Yeah. That's crazy. Are you sure you don't know anything about 'Hunters'?"

"Positive," declared Jake with enthusiasm, teeth flashing. "Besides, they're just stupid legends anyway."

I managed to pretend to agree and we headed back to the others and the fire, my mind whirling. Aching, even. I kept up a shallow pretense of conversation and was glad that Ben and Ange were ready to go when I got back. I thanked Jake profusely for telling me the legends – perhaps too profusely, but oh well – and told him goodbye before hopping in the truck and listening to Angela's soft snores all the way home.

I didn't snore much that night, myself.

**Ж**

I drifted through most of Sunday in a kind of daze.

When I got back home from the bookstore, Charlie took me out back to an area of soft grass and dirt that he had cleared. First he drilled me on basic exercises that would ingrain certain movements into my reflexes, then he showed me a couple of self-defense moves, which we practiced for over an hour. At the end, we had two short three-minute sessions of what he called "focused sparring," which was like fighting except he was trying to get me to use the techniques I had just learned rather than actually trying to beat me.

Fighting with my father was…interesting, to say the least. He wasn't in great shape, but he was more skilled than I had anticipated and easily kept me from hurting him when I goofed up. I was stronger and faster than I was used to being and had difficulty hiding it from Charlie, who was comparatively weaker from what I could tell. Luckily, Charlie's self-defense was practical for someone like me, who would probably be of smaller stature than most aggressors, so the techniques used less strength and speed and more leverage and skill.

As long as I didn't think about why Charlie had offered the tutoring to begin with, I found the whole thing to be more fun than I had thought it would be. Though I was clumsy as hell, so was Charlie, and he had already learned to compensate and was teaching me to do the same. After I showered, ate a hot meal, and sank gratefully into my bed, I could feel the soreness creeping up on my muscles, but it felt good. It felt like I had accomplished something.

During dinner, we had laughed together about mistakes we had both made (at one point, he had accidentally gotten his wrist twisted up in my shirt sleeve while I was throwing him, causing us both to tumble to the ground). It was…bonding, I supposed. It was what fathers and daughters were meant to do, but I had never even had anything like it with Renee. It made me feel guilty for hiding my recent discovery about the Cullens from him, as well as the changes I had been undergoing for weeks. But I had no idea how he would react to such things, and I couldn't bare it if he made me move again for my "safety." I could not leave Alice no matter how dangerous it seemed to be in Forks. I would not.

She was the last thing on my mind when I drifted to sleep.

_Bella was singing so sweetly that night that I had to join her, adding my own soprano symphony as our voices rose into a beautiful crescendo and gradually faded away into the darkness._

_My newest toy, a cute little cat, had made brilliant artwork of Bella's snowy white back. Dark lines were outlined in an abstract pattern as a stark contrast to her skin. Bella remained awake but she hung limply from her chains._

_The white-blue light from the battery-powered lantern in the corner cast amazing shadows across my baby's shapely body, giving her an ethereal, otherworldly glow that suited her perfectly. I hummed with approval and stroked a particularly deep slash with the back of a single finger. Bella shuddered at my caress._

_I gently released her from the chains, turned her body so that her front was facing me once more, then resecured her limbs. Bella's eyes were closed but she was breathing too heavily to be sleeping._

"_Bella," I said softly, stroking the handle of the whip along her jaw. She did not react. I dropped the cat and traced her jaw with my fingertips instead._

_Abruptly, I gripped her chin and forced her head back roughly. Bella jerked her head from my hand but I regained my grip and tightened it painfully._

_The fire in her eyes ignited a fire deep in my stomach._

_I planted my mouth on hers and moved my body closer, pressing her hard into the stone wall behind her, firmly squeezing a pert breast in one hand. She gasped with the pain of the friction against her wounds and I plunged my tongue into her open mouth, tasting, taking, sampling everything about her that was mine._

_Then she bit down hard on my lip, teeth cutting straight through, and I howled._

_Then smirked._

_"That's how you like it, huh?"_

_Bella spat in my face but I ignored it and firmly placed my bleeding lips on hers once more, this time careful not to allow her to open her mouth. With the hand that wasn't holding her in place (by the neck, now), I pinched one of her nipples and twisted, then rubbed soothing circles over the sensitive area. Bella jerked underneath my touch, but I doubted that she was feeling nearly as good about it as I was._

_I pulled away for breath and felt liquid on one of my hands. I smiled down at my fingers, which were coated lightly with thick, dark liquid. I brought my hand to my face and inhaled deeply, eyes falling closed in bliss. A moan escaped my throat when my tongue flicked out to taste the blood; I greedily sucked on my fingers until they were clean again._

_Bella mumbled something and I leaned closer to hear her._

"_Strong," she was saying. "Need to be strong."_

_I reeled back. Her head was hanging forward. I narrowed my eyes at her._

"_Be strong…for her."_

_Oh, hell no._

"_Who?" I demanded._

_Bella didn't reply at first. Then she started chuckling. Slowly at first, but then, as though the hoarse sound fed on itself, it grew._

"_Stop it!"_

_She did._

"_Her."_

"_WHO?"_

"_I don't know."_

_A loud crack resonated through the room; I had slapped her. Bella's head was jerked to the side and she slowly turned it until her eyes met mine._

_Then something happened that froze my blood in my veins._

_She smiled._

I woke calmly. Maybe that was strangest part, now that I was sort of used to seeing things from _her_ point of view. Sometimes I screamed, not from pain, but from horror. Not because I remembered, but because of what I would see in the dream. It was like watching the scariest movie ever filmed. I usually woke with my heart pounding, my body ready to fly off my bed, adrenaline roaring in my ears. It was like I hadn't even been a part of the dream, except as _her_, which when I thought about it too much made me vomit. So I tried not to think about any of it.

So it was weird that this time, I woke calmly.

And late. I had forgotten to set my phone. The images from the dream instantly disappeared in the rush of getting ready for school; showering, dressing (remembering a jacket this time), inhaling a cereal bar, jumping on the Hurricane and starting it at the same time.

I was in such a hurry, I barely noticed that it had rained heavily last night – and the rain had frozen over just in time for morning traffic. I had slipped and fallen on my ass in the driveway, but somehow it didn't cross my mind that ice was the cause until later.

It wasn't until I was almost at the school that it became a problem. Tyler was in front of me and Ben was behind me – I had waved to both of them for the hell of it – and we were all driving a little too quickly, being almost late for the first bell. Tyler hit a patch of black ice and fishtailed before skidding sideways. I swerved around the ice, but Ben wasn't so lucky and hit it at a bad angle.

There was that adrenaline rush I had missed this morning, I thought sardonically.

My blood was hot in my veins as Ben slammed on his brakes behind me, causing them to screech, but his momentum and the ice carried him forward. Tyler's van came mostly to a halt and I didn't have time to swerve around it or stop.

So I did the only thing I could. I jumped.

And, amazingly, unbelievably, drifted into the arms of safety.

* * *

><p><strong>I'm resigned to letting this damn thing write itself, at this point. I had planned to at least make to the next day before ending the chapter.<strong>


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